Angels And Demons
by Lady Bern
Summary: First JL fic. Someone with black wings has been sent by Klarion the Witch Boy to capture the strongest of the JL. What's their real objective? Only time will tell, but will there be anyone left to stop the little boy and his minion?
1. Chapter 1

I'm really trying to kill myself adding another fic to my list. Alright, my first time dipping into this section, but that isn't an excuse for poor work should this prove to be so. Chances are it's going to be, so flame if you wish, just be sure to give constructive criticism with it. I wanted to get this out before the new Justice League show starts and just in case the main baddie I'm using should make an appearance. (I hate to be unoriginal) Also I'm doing this because Auroris mentioned it and this idea just popped into my head. 

Disclaimer in rhyme: Me no own, you no sue, it's so sad, but it's so true. 

Of Angels and Demons

Prologue: 

Drab colors of the tall building's slate gray and the dreary shades of darkness cased the city into dismal night. The city is not the place one would usually find brotherly lover flowing freely about the streets. The clamor of car horns mixing together with the cadence of multiple alarms, loud music, and random shout of the night owls in search of their next thrill, all created the familiar symphony of the night.

A musical giggle cut through the chilled mid-autumn night, Leo, slow down. 

C'mon Quinn, they are waiting for us.

A woman dressed for a long night of club hopping released another fit of untamed laughter influenced by one too many drinks, her high pitched noise breaking the usual night silence. Leo, my shoes are going to fall off.

A dark skinned man much taller than the petite woman chuckled deep in his throat as he bent on one knee hoisting the laughing woman onto his shoulder. I'm not about to miss the count down again because of you. Stepping on a missing persons flyer carelessly littered on the pavement the couple faded of into the night.

With the disturbance gone the adulterated silence returned tosettle soundly on the dark street. 

From high above a small plastic pill bottle, empty of its contents, tumbled through the empty air and crashing harmlessly down onto the ground. It bounced slightly flipping in the air before rolling into the street to be seen as nothing more than more trash.

High atop the sixteenth story of a Bordeaux office building, silver tunes of a symphony piece grinded beautifully out of a large wooden music box filling the still air with its hunting melody. Aside the box a glass bottle of cheap Tequila laid on its side spilled of its liquid the last remaining drops dripping one by one seeping into the cracks of the rooftop.

A pair of dark brown eyes stared blankly at the seemingly everyday items trying to hold back the rising bile in her dry throat as the sensation of numbness crept through her being.

The sweet music had begun to melt together in a muddled cacophony in her ears as the things about her blurred into unidentifiable shapes. Eyes heavily dilated watched with difficulty as one of the shapes took the form of a shadow standing to loom over her.

Was it the angel of death, the Grim Reaper wielding his blade? Had he come, lured by the scent of the dying, to collect another soul as it was enslaved to do?

If it be him then he had just awhile longer to wait. However the effects of an extreme amount of alcohol and pills were killing her it was going about slowly, taking away her senses one by one. Feeling, that was slowly dieing away as her sight faded to preceive nothing. 

The cold touch of darkness, a deep endless void, finally consumed her as an image of a woman graced with white wings filled her mind and unseeing eyes, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry I could never be an angel like you.' She mentally sent her apology to the figure who wasn't in her present company.

The sensation of pleasure, a small tickling delight spread from within. The odd emotion given the situation was not hers.

Are you not afraid to die? The voice sounded deep onto her ears, echoing relentlessly in a never ending booming bass. 

A soft voice rasped passed dry quivering lips, it took her a moment to realize that it was her own meek voice. I fear this life I'm living more than my own death.

Lost in a world of dark with only sound left to preceive by she listened. From above the gathering dark clouds rumpled in angered warning before releasing their lukewarm burden, the small drops of water falling onto the rooftop's company. Behind her immobilized body the sound of fluttering wings and a bird's caw pounded into her head moments before an echoing laugh rung in her dying ears.

What does not kill youmakes you stronger. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chapter 1

Two years later

Being one of the guys' meant being treated exactly like one of the guys. Should she fall a glance would be sent her way to ensure she was still alive but rarely any questions would be asked towards her health. Of course not, during a fight other things were far more important then small bumps and bruises.

She was no fragile flower in need of protection but even she was aware of how differently she was treated compared to Diana, the amazon princess, a rookie comparied to the experiences of the others to the real world.

A strained voice asked before a large burger, dripping with ketchup and mustard, appeared a few inches from the beak of her helmet. 

Trailing her eyes from the offered food to the red clad arm helping to cradle a least ten other burgers wrapped in their papers she glanced onto the grinning face of the team's comic, The Flash. 

There was something light hearted and immature about him that gave her, and no doubt the others, a small since of ease, though her stoic face rarely showed it. 

When she did not accept he merely shrugged bringing the meat wedged between two buns to his wide opened mouth taking a large bite. Yoff an GL don' no whut yur miffin He mumbled taking a seat on the large semicircle like couch of the Watchtowers leisure room. Where's blue eyes?

She's with Superman and J'onn patrolling the city. She stated dryly. Reaching over she made an attempt to pluck a burger from the mound.

At seeing her hand snaking its way towards his food The Flash quickly shifted his position on the couch so that his back was facing her. You didn't want one remember?

A small smile spread across her face with the promise of a challenge, childish but a challenge none the less. Standing on her knees her wings rustling behind her she reached, leaned against his back, fighting against his quick speed for the goal at hand, his food.

Down on the soil grounds of Earth in a city known as Metroplis the Batmobile came onto a stop at the scene the distress call had originated too late to assist his friends. 

The green steadfast figure who stood looking down onto the street turned to silently acknowledge the new comers presents. 

Batman observed with expressionless eyes the disturbed area finding nothing else but a few circular shaped cracks in the pavement, and a badly dented car, revealing the signs that a fight had taken place. The one piece of evidence that did not belong with the rest was one single black feather the length of his forearm.

What is it? The Martian Manhunter inquired, his orange eyes peering down on the feather with apt interest. 

It's a feather from an American crow. He answered calmly. But from the size of this it has to be at least seven feet tall.

I saw no bird of the sort when I arrived. Though I had thought that I saw Hawkgirl, but when I called on the communicator she was still at the Watchtower with Flash and Green Lantern.

Do you know what this means? Batman asked looking into the empty night sky.

The green alien nodded his head with displeasure. Someone with wings had the strength to capture both Superman and Wonder Woman. We had best return to the others and discuss it further with them.

"Yes, after we get the police reports."

Earlier  
In the night shrouded city of Metropolis flying aside the dark haired Amazonian princess Superman scanned the skies and streets. There doesn't seem to be much activity tonight. He reported somewhat relieved.

Pushing a stray tress of midnight black hair the woman dressed in the colors of the nation's flag looked towards her companion. What about that robbery Batman told us about?

Slowing to a halt the pair hovered above the fair city, the citizens moving with more comfort knowing the man of steel himself protected their beloved home.

The robbery was some nights ago, all possible evidence and clues are cold. Did he tell you what was stolen? He asked her though his sights were focused downwards for any sudden surprises.

She nodded, wrapping her arms about herself as if to fend off a chill, Just a few things from an artifact collector: statues, scrolls, and a book I believe. Her head titled to the side as she observed him noticing his attention was divided between her and something else. Is something wrong?

Do you hear that? He asked looking into the direction of the sound.

Straining her ears all the sounds she received were the usual bombardment of city noise: people, cars, animals, and, the ever popular contraption she had long ago learned of, televisions. Shaking her head from side to side Wonder Woman spoke, No. But what is it?

is singing.

Singing? Is it not rather normal for people to sing freely?

No, that's not it. He stated drifting towards the soft tone like poor sailors drawn but the sirens' voice. Something isodd about this singer.

Moving in great haste the pair came onto a large business building framed with dark gray slate, every fifth floor decorated with the hunched over physique of a gruesome stone gargoyle. 

Nothing seemed out of the ordinary except that on the fifteenth level, as still as the statues themselves, stood a figure sheltered within the fabrics of a pure black cape, with a hood that shadowed all of the face but the rounded chin and dark parted lips that gave evidence that the person was female.

In delicate looking hands a large brown leather book worn with age rested open the stiff yellow pages fluttering like butterfly wings in the gentle breeze. A shift of the wind brought the sound of a soft voice singing ever so sweetly into the night in a near mournful tone the words neither person present could comprehend.

Is she going to jump? Wonder Woman questioned as they slowly approached the singing woman. Just as the words had passed her mouth did the queerly dressed woman close her book and topple forwards to descend into the empty air. 

In a rush of panic that filled his alien veins with adrenaline, Superman reacted out of instincts, diving down to intercept. There was no scream, no whimpers of fear from the falling figure, only the sounds of her dark clothing flapping through the rushing winds created by her fall.

Catching her with ease he slowed their descent so that he hovered easily in the empty air with the mystery woman cradled securely in his strong arms. I've got you, youre safe now. He smiled reassuringly onto the hidden face. 

The lips protruding from beneath the hood breathed a soft mummer as long narrow fingers, chilled like death itself, stroked against his warm cheek leaving four crimson lines of blood in their path. So mote it be.

He looked down onto the peculiar creature lying in his arms with utter confusion written on his face before the dull pain began to accumulate from where her hand had moments ago touched. 

Strained groans seeped through his tightly clutched teeth as he made an unsteady landing onto the paved streets below, barely missing an on coming car, both he and the woman in his arms tumbling onto the pavement. 

The few by passers that had stopped to watch their heroes in action froze in horror as they haplessly witnessed as their savior moaned in pain of the filthy streets, the four red liquid streaks glowing brightly contrasting against the fair color of his skin. And standing near the fallen man of steel, watching from behind a world of darkness created by her hood, was the woman in black.

The concerned cry brought the pedestrians' attention upwards to the woman quickly descending downwards to her fallen teammate. Everyone get back! 

It is too late. The soft voice spoke from beneath the shadows of the hood, See for yourself. 

All eyes looked down onto the man of steel aghast at the condition at which he was in. His body had gone still, his arms and legs pressed flat and stiff as though he were some wax figure abandoned on the street. The glow of the crimson streaks gracing his strong cheek had spread like a virus, slowly enveloping his entire body. Bit by bit his tall form began to shrink until only a 12 inch doll laid in the place where the once infamous Superman had been.

Suspended in her place with fear and disbelieve Wonder Woman watched as the nameless woman picked up the doll. Unseen eyes hidden in the shadow of her hood scanning over the figure before placing it into a pouch within the innards of her cape.

Who are you? Wonder Woman inquired floating before the strangely dressed hooded figure. And what have you done to Superman?

Long narrow fingers, dressed to resemble inhuman claws, slipped across the lone golden button of the cape letting the cloth fall back to gather in a semi-circle heap at her feet.

What stood before the world to see was a somewhat short, at least 5'4, African-American woman. Her unsmiling lips dressed in black lip stick, black and blue shades of face paint decorated around soft yet small dark eyes that peered from beneath the beak of some sort of blackbird-like hood that gleamed shades of indigo to violet in the bright city lights. She was definitely not as _gifted _as the heroine standing before her, a somewhat flat chest was covered by a black corset styled top, the indigo/violet ribbon running throughout the lacework attached securely onto a dark choker. What she lacked in her bust was highly made up for with her curvy waist dressed in an extremely short but non-confiding black skirt. Resting on the curve of her waist was a long chain, wrapping around her frame a good number of times.

Shifting her feet so that the metal toes of the talon styled calf-high boots scraped mercilessly against the ground she placed her hands behind her back. I am the sorceress Medea. A voice barely that above a whisper spoke. And you, along with the rest of your friend, are in my masters way.

You will release Superman now! Wonder Woman cried out as she advanced onto the one who called herself Medea.

Within the blink of an eye the woman unraveled the chain from around her waist twirling the end quickly above her head in a repeating _whoosh whoosh whoosh_.

Careful of the chain Wonder Woman made a dive for the pouch laying among the fallen robe at the woman's feet. 

Medea's dark eyes narrowed at the action, her chain ceased circling through the air as she swung. 

Wonder Woman dodged just as the blur of silver came crashing down towards her only to land on the vacant grimy pavement. What she saw at the end of the chain embedded into the cracked street surprised her. What she had at first deduced as a simple chain end was in truth a sphere the size somewhat smaller than that of a volleyball.

Careful, that is over thirty pounds of steel, with the added pressure of speed and inertia combined my ball and chain can prove quiet fatal. Medea's soft voice warned with a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips. With a hard flick of her wrist the chain's long body cracked like a whip catching the unsuspecting woman in the cheek. 

But the stinging pain did not distract the heroine from her duties as she took hold of the chain's body roughly jerking the bird-dressed sorceress towards her and flying to the woman at the same time. She attacked with a volley of punches landing mainly on the dark woman's upper body. 

When fist connected to flesh Medea cried out a horrid sound as she stumbled backwards away from her enemy's reach. Huffing deeply she wiped the small trickle of blood bleeding from her nose with the back of her hand. My master was not joking about your strength. It is no wonder he sent me after the two of you first. 

Taking the strongest in hopes that the rest will fall easily? Who is this _master _you speak of and what does he want with us? She asked approaching the wounded woman. 

Medea smirked yanking her chain as hard as she could pulling the sphere from the asphalt and crashing into her adversary's backside. You will meet him for yourselfwhen I take you to him. 

Once again the little sphere caused little harm to the woman who had been said to have the strenght of over twenty men. Wrapping her arm around the chain just so that she would not loose her grip she pulled back and swung towards her side lifting the small woman off her feet and flying through the air. A small bird like squawk scratched through her throat as her back collided mercilessly against the metal door of a nearby parked car. 

The metal screamed as it folded under the stress to fit the arch of her back and the glass window shattered raining inside the faux leather seats. With a weak moan she fell fowards onto the asphalt, dazed and winded, seemingly no longer a threat. 

With the self proclaimed sorceress dealt with Wonder Woman turned back to the abandoned objects picking out the dark pouch from the fallen cape.

Reaching within she removed the man turned doll along with the leather book the woman had been holding earlier. As she had seen before the dark brown leather was worn down perhaps hundreds of years old, small gold hollow coils ran along the cover in an intricate design enclosing a single word, its name. Pulling open the pin and clasp lock revealing ancient beautiful illustrations on the crisp brown and yellow pages the books name escaped her mouth.

At the sound of the spell book's name the letters written over the pages illuminated with life before the cover slammed closed in her hands. A small blur of black fluttered before her face cawing madly as it tried to peak and scratch.

Grunting in displeasure her faught against the crow, which seemed to have appeared from nowhere, trying dearly to shoo the confused bird away while maintaining a hold on the book.

Put that down! An enraged voice screamed.

The situation with the bird suddenly became insignificant as she looked up to see the fallen Medea push herself up onto hands and knees, with a grunt she sprung onto her feet in a run as large black feathered wings exploded from her lower back. 

Flying barely five feet above the pavement rushing below Medea released a loud caw as the distance between herself and the surprised Wonder Woman closed. Shifting her body in mid air so that the sharp points of her talon footed boots flew ahead of her body she gave a flying kick that knocked the book from Wonder Woman's hands. Moving in fluid motion of her earlier attack she brought the extended foot down onto her opponent's bare shoulder tearing into skin.

Wonder Woman hissed in pain grabbing the winged woman by her ankle and swinging her roughly away from her. Sweet Hera. She gasped placing her hand over the wounds. 

A small musical giggle echoed throughout the still air as Medea floated down into a graceful landing. Tucking her wings behind her she bent down to picked up the fallen book and the large black crow landed to perch contently on the bend of her elbow. Blood on flesh is all I need. At her voice the book opened quickly turning it's pages until the desired spell was in sight. Once again a line of unrecognizable speech flowed past her dark lips. So mote it be. 

The wound glowed bright as the spell took effect rendering Wonder Woman onto bending knee. Are you Thangarian, like Hawkgirl? She asked as the numbing sensation spread throughout her useless limbs. 

Medea stood in silence watching as the same process that had befallen onto Superman transpired onto Wonder Woman rendering her another little doll. Bending down she picked up the doll before placing it into the same pouch she had the hero before, care not to harm the leather bond spell book as she placed it within as well. I am flattered that you would mistaken me as one of her kind. But no, I am not. I am not even human any longer.

Looking about the small battle grounds she caught sight of cowering spectators, fearful of what she might do to them with the powder endowed to her from the book she kept by her side. Sighing lightly into the wind she spread her wings and took flight, her job, for the moment, was done.

Later at a dark mansion near the outskirts of the city...  
The sharp clicking sounds of the talon styled boots resounding against the wooden floor panels pierced the silent room pitched into a deep foreboding darkness no sane man would be able to withstand. The only light was the flickering glows of a fire caged within a fireplace, it's soft crackles biting into the air at random moments.

Medea removed the crow like hood from her crown sighing with satisfaction as the short locks of double twisted hair fell against her brow and round cheeks. Her eyes scanned through the dim lit room over to a figure standing on guard in a dark corner. One lone eye peering from aside a dark eye patch followed her every movement. She merely removed her chains from her waist handing onto him. 

Evening, Theodore. She said softly only receiving a small sneer in return for her false kindness.

Did you complete your mission? A youthful voice draped heavily with a formal foreign accent filled the room. 

Chuckling lightly she sat her spell book down upon the nearest table before approaching the large red velvet armchair seated before a never ending fire, Do you have reason to doubt your loyal Medea? She asked seconds before leaning over the chair's back so that her arms could snake affectionately around the neck of a small child who looked no more than nine. Rubbing her nose and cheek into the soft silk-like raven black hair neatly trimmed into a bowl cut style, she too stared into the flames. Superman was as gullible as you had said. Though Wonder Woman did manage to put in the good fight.

The boy's eyes, an impish void of black orbs, reflected the flickering fire's flames. The rest can easily be dealt with even while you carry out your orders. Until then, I want to have a chili cheese dog before the late night movie starts. He smiled happily stroking the back of an orange stripped cat. 

You never do make it simple, but as you wish," Laughing lowly she leaned her head down to rest against the boy's neck as her wings folded against her back aligning with her spine, "Master Klarion.

He coughed.

A delighted chuckled bubbled from his neck, Bum bum bum, the witch boy.

TBC...

DSP: Um.. not bad. A bit occ, but that's just the way things are for now. Yeah I have a classic villain with my oc working for him. Don't worry it won't be an entire mary-sue thingy. I just wanted to add some depth to this plot.

Okay, I accept, good reviews, bad reviews, checks, and all major credit cards. And also I crave constructive critisism. I know I'm not as good as I can be, but with your help I can make my way towards that.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: *sigh* 

Chapter 2 

Amongst the setting of far off stars and cast away wishes a large metallic structure easily mistaken as another satellite drifting in space was the Justice League's base of operations, the Watchtower. 

Seated before the computer console Batman's stoic face gave no glimpses of the repressed emotions running through is being as he focused on the screen. 

Behind him the remaining members of the team listened somewhat unbelieving as the Martian Manhunter, known onto them as J'onn J'onzz, explained the disappearance of their two comrades to the best of his knowledge and the information thus far gathered from spectators and the police.

Wally West, known to the world around as The Flash, jumped onto his feet as he waved his hands before him as if signaling the world to stop. Whoa, whoa, whoa, back up for a moment, did you just say that Big S **and** Double W were turned into dolls? Thats just weird. Who is twisted enough to turn someone into toys?

You weren't so upset when the action figures of yourself were put out on market. Shayera Hol, known best as Hawkgirl, blatantly pointed out. 

Yes I was. They made my butt too big. He turned at an angle so that said body part was visible for all to inspect and to compare to the toy that had been placed on market some months ago. Shay you show it, tell them about the comparisons. 

Can't you see there are more important things to worry about? John Stewart snapped the aggression of his worry misplaced on the man dressed in red and yellow.

Looking to her friends she knew tension was high, Clark and Diana captured, that was great cause for worry, and they were the strongest of the team. Breaking the stifling tension she turned everyone's focus to the situation at hand. J'onn, go on.

With the slightest nod of his head he continued. There weren't many spectators at the scene when I arrived, not soon after the culprit's departure. There was not much to go by even with the police reports.

Flash elevated a brow, So how do we find out who we are dealing with?

There was a security camera trained on the street, if we are lucky it caught some of what happened. Batman stated directing everyones attention towards the large computer screen.

For the longest moment there was nothing on screen, merely the street side with a lamp post. 

Can't we fast forward to the good part? Flash questioned. 

His humor at the moments was not welcome and was about to be voiced when movement finally flashed onscreen. Superman crashed into the corner dropping a hooded figure farther towards the center of the screen. They all watched unable to tear their eyes away as the figure stood and their friend began to shirk in size smaller and smaller until he was nothing more than a stiff toy. 

They watched wishing they had been present to stop the events from happening; they watched figments of the fight between the woman named Medea and Wonder Woman their figures falling in and out of the shot as the poor sound from the audio played out their grunts. 

It was not long before Wonder Woman returned to the screen's center and picked up the fallen items mainly a large black book. A word, nearly inaudible, flowed from her mouth before an odd series of events occurred until at last she was nothing but a doll just like Superman.

What did she say? John asked leaning closer to the screen as the part was replayed. It sounded like she said More gum'. 

Flash shrugged his shoulders, Well we can be sure it isnt a best seller. I think she said morning'. Does anyone know any books by that title?

Morrum. She said Morrum. Hawkgirl clarified. 

Batman asked standing onto his feet. 

Yes, does it sound familiar to you?

It was an old book for sale at an auction I attended last month. It really didn't seem like much but in the end it was sold to Douglas Larose for four thousand.

So we need to have a little talk with this Larose.

It won't do us any good. 

Remember that someone was robbed a few days ago? It was him.

Was there anyone else bidding for the book?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Four weeks before~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Bruce Wayne smiled kindly as he put down yet another date from the many women who had delusional dreams of capturing the rich bachelor for themselves. Only by accepting their numbers was he able to finally get away from the hoard of women to get back to his original _date_.

Walking around the display cases holding the possessions of the late, Alexander Prose, an archaeologist who died in debt, he spotted the dark haired beauty standing before a large Aztec statue conversing with a woman clad in a casual black and pink pinstripe pants suit.

'this is my first auction.' She had answered honestly. 

'Oh?' The dark skinned woman had asked raising a lovely naturally arched brow, 'Well you may not feel the same as I do about them but I find auctions rather amusing.' 

'Amusing?' Diana asked somewhat confused.

'Yes.' She turned to the side giving the room a large swept of her well manicured hand, 'Look at everyone here to bid on art and artifacts of the past because of their wondrous value, ripped from its culture in a mess of official work that more or less means legalized stealing. But if it should ever be damaged, which in time it will, then the value dissipates rendering it trash. So therefore people send vast amounts of money on what will eventually become garbage.' 

For the moment Diana stood still letting the woman's explanation seep into her mind. She looked about at all the artifacts, scrolls, and books, set up all about the display room seeing that some indeed were damaged. Turning around she faced her companion again, 'If you feel that way about them then why do you attend?'

She let out an exasperated scoff as she moved her hand in a small flourish making the smoke of her cigarette circle in a thin and disarrayed stream. 'My boss sent me to be the body while he bids; he says I'm merciless when it comes to getting a job done or some shit like that. Oh excuse my French. To be more precise, Im here to get something or another for my boss, before it falls into the wrong hands.'

'Pardon?'

It was at the time that Bruce decided to make his presents known, 'I hope that I'm not interrupting anything.'

A fond smile spread over her lips when her blue eyes caught sight of who it was that had drifted into their conversation. 'Oh Bruce, I would like for you to meet' She paused realizing that she had no name to give. 

The woman smiled before extending her hand. 'I am so sorry, here I am going off at the mouth and I haven't even introduced myself. I go by Azure.'

'Azure?' The pair asked in union.

'Yes, it's my surname. I've been addressed by it so many times that I don't respond well to my first, it's as if I've forgotten what it is. And my middle is sopeculiar that its only fitting to stick with my last; thats why I ask people to address me as such.' She went on smiling amiably.

'It's a pleasure to meet you Azure, I'm Diana.' She stated shaking her extended hand. 

'And I'm Bruce Wayne.' He said doing the same. 

'As in the rich playboy?' Her dark eyes drifted down and up to his face again, evaluating him.

They both watched in amusement as the very thoughts that were flowing through her mind appeared on her face, first curiosity, then confusion, before at long last she decided that she did not see what others found so desirable and the amiable look returned. 

Above them the lights dimmed three times silently signaling the start of the events. 'Show time.' Azure sighed drearily before pulling out a cell phone. 'I hope you enjoy the circus Diana, it was a pleasure meeting the both of you.' 

Sitting side by side Diana and Bruce watched as the items from auction went quickly based by category: paintings, statues, tools, weapons, and books. 

'The next bidding, item #2041 leather bound journal believed to be the possession of one Eckgard Morrum.' The auctioneer stated in a mellow drone as a large black leather book tattered with age was placed on the pedestal. 'We will start the bidding at five hundred dollars.'

A man somewhere in his late 30s to early forties was the first to lift his paddle. 'Five hundred to the man in front, any others?'

Towards the center of the left seating a paddle lifted into the air. 'Ah, a bid from our reprehensive.' He smiled. 

All eyes drifted back to Azure who sat left leg crossed over her right with the cell phone to her ear. 

In time the offers grew until the bid was doubled in its original price. '1,000 dollars.' Azure's paddle floated up, '1,000 to the lady, do I here more?' The caller asked. 

It was like a tennis match, back and forth and back and forth, each of them battling to be the victor by going higher and higher with their bids. 

The bid was up to 4,000 dollars when without a questioning glance she nodded turning off her phone then silently relented to the older man. 'Sold for 4,000 to the man in front.'

Catching up with the woman again Diana went to give her condolences.

Azure merely sighed deeply making her chest rise and fall, 'This just makes a big mess of things. Oh well me and my boss will just have to handle things as they come.'

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Back to present~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was not hard for Batman to find the woman who introduced herself as Azure at the auction; she had happily signed her name and left the name of the company for which she worked in the auction house guest book. If there was anyone he could get reliable information from he was sure the other who wanted that book would know.

Standing in the shadows hidden well by its dark embrace. Working solo as he preferred he peered through the small binoculars spying into the dusty yellow window of an antiques shop long since closed for the night. Through the glass he could see the vivacious woman from the auction seated at the counter with an elderly woman their lips moving chatting merrily about something over two plastic containers of takeout and drinks.

They were laughing together as Azure stood onto her feet clearing away their food. In a matter on moments the dim lights of the room darkened before both women stepped out. 

The elder woman walked away vanishing into the next building as Azure climbed into a silver Mitsubishi, with a hum of the engine as it turned over and the car pulled into the mild night traffic.

Slipping back into the small space of the Batmobile, a vehicle yet to be rivaled by anything made to date by man, he took care not to fall into her sights he pursued. Turning the corner he found the object of his pursuit leaned against her parked car inhaling with deep satisfaction on a fresh Lucky Strike cigarette. 

And to what do I owe the pleasure of one of the nation's greatest heroes following me? She asked into the dark once he had stepped onto the pavement. When the silence between them settled again she lifted her head pointing her round chin straight upwards while peering at him from the corner of her eye focused on his darkly dressed form. She asked blowing out a cloud of smoke imitating a chimney.

I want to ask you a few things.

Let me guess, you want to know what I know about Medea and that book she's towing around, the Morrum? She snickered lightly before bringing the cigarette back to her lips. Go figure, since I was trying to get it I knew sooner or later someone would be around asking me questions.

What do you know? Why were you sent to retrieve the book?

My boss sent me to prevent all of this She waved her hands above her head in search of the right words to describe their situation. This mess.

The Morrum was first said to have been a simple journal.

She laughed lowly causing the cigarette smoke seeping out of her closed teeth in a bellowing stream the miasma floating about her in a light fog. A simple incomplete journal written by some guy nobody has ever heard of, selling for four thousand dollars and no one was suspicious about it? Unless it's a journal written by a world leader and filled with all their dirty little secrets nothing should sell for that much. The Morrum, as you've found out, is a spell book, a catalyst to most magik users. From the looks of it I'd say it was made in the early late 12th century though others claim the mid 13th, it's 12th no matter what those idiots say. Sadly to most of its previous users it has proven to be quiet useless. She chuckled again at some private joke. 

Do you know why?

The Morrum is rather picky with who it serves, there's even an inscription on the cover! It will only work for a woman. But that stupid man with his greed went and bought the book, and of course Medea retrieved it at her master's words.

Yes, I think you know himKlarion the witch boy.

At the sound of the child's name a stifling silence hovered between them. He stood still analyzing the true seriousness of situation, the spoiled malicious witching brat who was said to have turned his own parents into mice to feed his pet familiar, with another witching person willingly his minion. For his love of mischief and chaos, not only was his teammates in danger, but all was at stake. Was he trying to control Etrigan, the demon of hell, again, or was his twisted mind up for something bringer? 

Returning his full focus on Azure he debated what to do with her, she was useful at the time seeing as she knew far more than they did at the moment. You know where he is. It wasn't a question, it was a blatant accusation. 

I do. She said dropping her cigarette to the street and grinding it out with her foot. 

Tell me where he is. He commanded his voice never betraying the ever present tone of control and void of all other emotions.

I'll tell you when we get there, until then, you'll have to follow me. She stated climbing back into her car.

TBC

DSP *hugging her Flash plushy*: Ooh Shadowhawk's gonna be pissed at me, I'm pose to be helping him out. But I had to update to take up YamiMarita's promise.   
Oh and as for your question, as to what Medea is...sorry but you'll find out later.   
Thank you all for the reviews and making sure that I know what Im doing (I did extensive research before typing anything ;-), and to those of you who didn't thanks for reading anyhow. All reviews are welcome as long as they wipe their feet before coming in.


	3. Chapter 3

DSP: Q&A time. One question I keep getting is what is Medea since she isn't like HG but she says she isnt human. Ok I'm probably ruining one of the mystery parts of this fic but it's not really a mystery because the first chapter answered it (you must read very very carefully). Another question I get is why she's working for him...well I'm going to touch down on those questions a bit in this chapter and explain the most of rest in the next.

Oh and please please please take a look at my favorite authors list. There are so many great writers out there. For instance, YamiMarita (if you're looking for a great Farscape fic). Neoen (for wonderful characters)! The list goes on and on. I should get paid for shameless advertising. But hey I love these people!

Disclaimer: *Wah!*

Chapter 3 

The large modern Victorian house surrounded by a large semicircle of dense trees looked dark and uninviting to all who looked upon it in the dark of night. Had it been daylight there was no doubt the home looked wondrous, a beautiful sight to behold, where by-passers would imagine and covet living in such a place. 

That was desired affects one Agnes White wanted when she had her home constructed, sadly it was eventually desired by a certain witch boy who would literally kill for it; which the widowed White found out for herself.

You get what you wish for.

Batman looked upon the manor with the look of unreadable indifference ever plastered on his face. His eyes focused on a large opened window high up in the attic of the house and there was no doubt in his mind that the woman he sought made residence there. But as for the whereabouts of Klarion, that was a different problem.

His surveillance was hindered when a small cloud of cigarette smoke floated into his face. Stay here. He commanded tucking his arms within his cape ready to make a dash across the wide lawn.

Azure threw her cigarette to the ground with a huff of annoyance, The hell I am, I'm coming too.

Pausing though never turning to face the odd woman he addressed her, No, it's too dangerous and you will only get in the way.

Oh? So what are you going to do if or when you get to your friends and the Morrum? If you don't recall it isn't an ordinary book. Its power lures men only to deny them, use them for its own needs; but when it finds the one it wants as its mistress, in our case Medeawell let me put it this way it can be worse than a jealous lover. She said complacently for she knew she had him on that point.

I'll bring it to you- before another word could be uttered she quickly pulled him underneath the large magnolia tree. Shush, the crows are out. She whispered looking skywards her eyes narrowed.

He thought back to the surveillance video he had seen black wings, a feather of an American crow, and Azure with a caution towards them, Her familiars. He reasoned out.

She nodded, Smart lil' bastards too. If they see us its gonna be an up close and personal rendition of Hitchcocks The Birds. Listen I cant stay out here and if I leave theyll know youre here, its best if I come with you.

His words came out deep and harsh in a statement of finality.

She crossed her arms over her ruby halter top making the arms of the jean jacket rub noisily together. Like it or not I'm going in that house. She spoke with an air of impatience and annoyance. Look, the lights are on only on the main floor, I'll sneak around down there and be a lookout for you, if anything goes wrong Ill scream bloody murder and make a run for it. You get the book and find me downstairs, I'll take care of your friends and then you guys can take care of Klarion. Its only logical.

Very well. He stated thinking the quicker he could get to her the quicker whatever had been done to Superman and Wonder Woman could be removed.

They moved with speed across the lawn dodging in an out of the shadows careful not to gain the attention of the dark winged alarms. Within minutes they found themselves safely beneath the attic window.

Azure gave him a small whisper of luck before slipping into a downstairs' window disappearing into the dark. Without another thought about her he removed the small launcher from his belt firing a grappling hook up onto the roof. Cutting through the air with stealth and ease he too slipped within the dark house.

His expectations for the room was something of maybe dark walls filled with books upon books and disturbing items needed for making one concoction or another seeing as her master was Klarion after all. But that was the Hollywood cliché portrayal of the old witch and sorceress. Ugly buck toothed hags and hermits isolated in their homes dressed in black and continuously stroking their pet familiars.

The spacious room looked every much down to earth with walls painted sky blue, there were only two bookshelves aligned with some old books, plants, and a random photo. 

His eyes drifted about to a four poster bed draped with a silver mosquito nest showered with black feathers, to the desk set far across the opposite end room. And there lying across a table top near a photo with its heavy covers and clasp wide open was the Morrum.

His eyes locked onto the still book slowly drawing nearer. He felt drawn towards it, something calling out to him wrapping him in an invisible sheet of temptation. Power. Raw unbridled power, that's what the Morrum offered, and all just sitting there beckoning him to take and taste the sweet fruit it had to offer onto any strong enough to harvest it. Standing right in front of the desk looking down Batman could now see the faint aura of power pulsating like a slow heartbeat.

If you don't recall it isn't an ordinary book. Its power lures men only to deny them, use them for its own needs,' Azure's cocky voice echoed the warning in his mind. 

Slamming the book close he picked it from the desk, I'll just read the cliff-notes. 

Then the photo caught his eyes, the familiar faces all looking back into the camera seemed to be laughing at him as they teased him for his foolishness. He said giving a name to one of the faces.

Tucking the book beneath his arm he continued with the search of his friends, upon looking straight ahead of him his search ended. 

Suspended securely on the wall was an old-fashion two story dollhouse, the then wood panels painted a dark shade of peach. Pulling open the face the perpetually frozen smiling faces of the dolls looked back onto him as if they were truly happy to have been saved from whatever horrors awaited them in the demented childs home.

He was reaching in to take the Superman and Wonder Woman figures when from above he heard a soft caw aided with the rustle of feathers. Slowly his eyes turned upwards, nearly fifty pairs of beady black eyes looked down onto him. 

The crows, he soon realized that they didn't live just outside, there was a small rookery of them nestled above in the bared rafters decorated with their nests and bits of shiny objects that had struck their fancy. 

Surely Medea and Klarion knew he was there. But nonetheless he moved slowly taking the dolls from their stands and moving with the same stealth and silence left the sorceress's room. 

Dodging from shadow to shadow slinking in the dark using it well as his cover he made his way down to the first floor to retrieve Azure.

A soft voice whispered as a head peaked from behind the stairs. Oh good, I thought something had happened to you up there.

No, come on. He stated walking silently ahead of her leading them cautiously towards the closest exit. 

Azure followed two feet behind with her shoes in her hands as she crept on her toes, Did you find anything? She whispered.

Yes, I have the others and the book. He stated pausing to peek about the hallway littered with decorative statues and weapons mounted on the wall. I'll give it to you once it's safe.

Looking at the decorative battle axe mounted on the wall she silently moved towards it. Good. Then we can finish this sooner than I though. She removed the axe without a sound. Taking a firm grip she brought it over her head as her eyes focused ahead of her at Batman's back. 

Tell me how long have you been working for Klarion, He turned to face her with the axe still posed over her head ready to strike, the stoic look ever plastered on his squared set face told that her betrayal was no surprise, Azure, Medea? 

A photo cut through the air to slide to a halt at her feet. In the picture were Klarion and herself eating pizza at some sort of show. He watched as she looked upwards away from the picture, the highly confident woman he had spoken to moments before was gone, actually shirking before his eyes and in her place stood a timid looking creature with soft eyes that sparked with a lost child like quality. 

A small smile tugged at the corners of her lips, Yes I am Medea S. Azure, sorceress, the mistress of the Morrum and crows. She said through a whispered voice. And I've been in my master's service for two years. With a grunt she brought down the axe cutting through empty air as he gracefully leapt backwards from her attacks. 

Long job title.

Swing after swing she advanced onto the dark knight each time hitting nothing as he dodged her attacks with ease the only victim to the blade was a small corner of the dark cape.

So this was nothing more than a trap. He accused.

A murderous fire sparked in her dulled eyes making her look darkly savage as she swung without letting up. Not until after Larouse outbid me, like I said we were trying to prevent all of this! She swung again missing but sent a vase into its oblivion. Klarion thought it up when I didn't get the book that fateful night. He knew one of you would sniff around the records and find me. Sadly we were hoping for more of you.

How did you manage a job with Klarion? He asked gazing into eyes, the dark pupils enlarged with a crazed predatory bloodlust all the while careful of her advances. He isn't the best person to be around, ask his parents.

The turning them into mice thing? She asked in her eerie soft spoken voice that came as a near whisper even whilst she was heated with her attacks, Yes, I know but I'm merely his caretaker. Besides the Morrum is a strong book capable of many of things. With an overheat chop she once again got nothing but cape, embedding her weapon deep into the floorboards.

Never to miss his opportunity Batman gracefully delivered a swift roundhouse kick to her upper body sending her crashing backwards into a decorative bust on a pedestal.

And what other way for me to obtain its power other than by being the master of its mistress? A smooth young voice asked. The subject at hand stood in the doorframe of a large library his hand stroking over the head of the cat resting on his shoulders. He did not spear his fallen minion a glance as he locked eyes with the man who had foiled his plans of dominance before.

Ah Batman, I have not seen you since that incident in Gotham, He stated his tone that of boredom.

I thought you were still confided to your room. He said watching as the black eyed boy scowled briefly at the memory. Whatever it is that you're up to it isn't going to work without this book. He produced the book for him to see.

With a scoff the boy turned his back on him before walking back into the library, You're foolish to think that it is truly that easy. Besides Medea wouldn't allow that to happen, would you?

Of course not, Master. Batman turned in time for her to grasp hold of his shoulders, using him as support she flipped over his head throwing him into the library after Klarion once her bare feet touched the ground.

Though the throw took him by surprise it did not hinder his ability to react. Bringing his feet down onto the slick wood floor he slid into a crouch like landing. His eyes watched as the dark woman strolled casually across the room to the boy's side her dark eyes locked with his own. He wondered how good of an actress she must have been to have played the part of the bubbly Azure to the silent Medea, two complete different people in spirit and appearance without the use of her magick and illusions. No one would have suspected, but then again he wasnt no one.

This is going to get messy isn't it? She questioned leaning against the chair's arm as Klarion took a seat.

Quite bloody if I can help it. Klarion answered a look of unrestrained glee curling into his smile.

She sighed with her eyes still focused on Batman, Theodore and I are going to up all night cleaning up this place.

Teekl, Medea. With a snap of his fingers both pairs of eyes locked on the Dark Knight.

The small feline jumped down from his shoulders transforming in mid-descent, her sleek body elongating to accustom a humanoid form crouched on all fours her green eyes narrowed to slits. She hissed through a maniacal grin that would have put the Cheshire cat to shame. There was no doubt in his mind that the feline took great pleasures in the work she did at the biddings of her owner.

Standing prepared for their attacks he looked from the feline familiar to the sorceress crow. Medea stood with her hands bared; clutching them into a fist she opened them with a loud crack of her knuckles as the naturally lucid black nails grew to accustom the long bony fingers that resembled bird-like talons had they five fingers. He looked into her face but saw no crazed look of delight despite the small river of blood flowing from her forehead down her cheek. In fact she looked rather remorseful.

With a small hiss Teekl stuck flying across the room with her claws extended in hopes of a quick wounding then the rest cruel play. Bringing his forearm up to block he swung for her thin abdomen just to strike at air as she gracefully sprung above his head to land behind him. He kicked behind him missing her as she dropped to all fours quickly moving around to crouch in front of him. With a deep hiss she sprung upwards her sharp nails scratching across his cheek.

Batman, ever quick to react, took hold of the wrist as she struck a second time. With a sudden and hard yank he pulled her towards him into the clutched fist flying towards her face.

Teekl stumbled backwards regaining her balanced quickly. Each muscle in her lithe body tensed, her narrowed green eyes locked on her prey as she began walking in a slowly wide circle around him stalking him like some mouse. 

He slowly followed her waiting for the moment when she would strike again, his eyes shot back and forth one second looking at his opponent of the moment then the next looking towards Klarion, who sat watching with delight as Medea combed her inhuman fingers through his hair. 

When his eyes snapped back to Teekl her muscles twitched as she sprung into action. Her bare feet thumped against the floorboards picking up speed as she ran faster and faster around him. It was a circling blur of orange as the feline ran about him hissing and clawing every once in a while. Her claws tearing into cloth and skin unmercifully. 

By the fifth swipe of the hand Batman dropped and with quick thrust of his leg tripped the speeding were-cat familiar gracelessly sending her body tumbling to her masters feet. 

Not a cat person, Batman? Klarion asked his frightfully dark eyes moving from the sight of his recovering pet to his intruder. I hope you like birds.

Taking the silent command Medea removed the jacket from her body as she approached Batman, the black wings appearing from there hiding place inside her back.

Batman wiped the excess blood from his cheek watching her as she approached. I'm not foolish enough to attack you head on like that cat. She removed a small line of metal chains, about the length of her arm, from around her thin wrist. To tell you the truth I could care less about your _little_ friends, but you do have something that belongs to me. 

With a flick of her wrist the chain was flying towards his face like a deadly viper. Dodging Batman made a run for the west wall of the study. Recollecting her weapon of choice the sorceress darted after him. It was not long before she was running beside him that she ran past him jumping on then bouncing off the wall. 

Batman slid to a halt as the black winged woman flew back towards him with her claws bared stretched out for the proverbial kill. Analyzing her trajectory he adjusted himself accordingly, as her hands flew by he took her by the shoulders falling backwards and with a push of his legs sent her soaring over his head. 

Jumping onto his feet quickly regaining his pose as she did with a small smirk tugging at her lips as she held up the Morrum for him to see the evidence that her quick hands should not be underestimated. Sitting the book down she faced-off against him in silence, both wondering how one could defeat the other. 

Medea, this has become very boring, finish it. Klarion demanded. 

Swinging the chain so that it wrapped neatly down her left hand and wrist she bowed her head respectively. As you wish, master.

Medea and Batman both locked eyes and nodded with a silent understanding, this charge would be the last, the one that decided the victor.

A crow-like cowl echoed in the room announcing their start like a pistol. The room filled with the sound of their feet crashing against the floor as they ran towards one another. In a blur of hits and blocks Batman unleashed a volley of punches against the woman's upper body targeting her belly, chest, and face careful to alternate his attacks least she catch on.

Her right forearm blocked his finishing attack, a blow to the neck that would render her unconscious. Dark eyes drifted onto the blank eyes of his mask, the coagulated blood flanking off her cheek gave her the most psychotic appeal though those eyes remained remorseful. Her fist wrapped in the chain collided open palm into the side of his cheek sending his body spiraling as he fell backwards the river of blood spewing from his mouth and nose.

Everything seemed to be spinning and the persistent ringing in his ears did not help him to recover from the initial blow. The pain of Teekl's scratches and the fight shot through him once again as a weight pressed down on his chest. 

Don't worry, in a moment all the hurt shall be gone. Her soft whisper of a promise fell sweetly on his ears as her hand gingerly wiped the blood from his mouth.

Collecting my blood for later? He managed through the busted jaw.

Your cynicalism is such a welcome even though I am merely cleaning you up. You and many others are sadly mistaken about this art. Magick isnt just parlor tricks and reading something backwards like that Zantana bitch does. Despite her mood her voice was ever low and ever soft to the ears. And blood is not required for everything, that's just barbaric, only the large dark magick spells call for it. The simple ones, white, dark, or mutual, do not. She stated softly taking away his belt and the two dolls stolen from her room. My Morrum, much like myself, is rather mutual, neither of the light or of the dark, just trapped in a world of gray you might say.

Her hand disappeared behind her only to remove a small dagger, the light caught on its silver blade reflecting the light into his eyes. The pain will be brief. She said drawing the blade against her finger tips.

Medea, I shall do the honors. He said taking the bloodied dagger from her hand.

Standing she nodded her head before walking away with her book wrapped securely in her arms. As my master wishes. Just but be sure to wash your hands afterwards. I'm making spaghetti tonight if you are late their will be no seconds on dessert.

Strawberry shortcakes. Her voice called as she disappeared.

Batman watched the strange exchange between the pair, one moment she was the minion, the next she acted like some sort of parent. What sort of demon did you conjure up this time?

Medea? She is no demon, though she may think differently of herself, she is just a lost soul I found one day laying in her own vomit dieing slowly in her attempt to take her own life. Klarion said as if it were of no real importance.

I didn't take you to be the type to care.

Usually I would have just stood there watching her die slowly while eating my ice cream cone, but then I realized there was something veryspecial about her. It was not until she recovered that I knew that the pitiful human was an innate and denatured sorceress just waiting for someone to show her how to use all of that raw power flowing through her. I think someone in her family was a magick wielder of some sort. He rambled on.

I take it that someone she was waiting for was you. Batman said spitting the blood from his mouth. So how does a human woman suddenly get wings?

It was her wish believe it or not. There were a few exchanges in our bargain, I got a loyal sorceress as a minion, she was taught how to control something she deemed a curse and wings. Sadly it was that book that took away her humanity. Now to deal with you. He ran the blade slowly across the dark knight's face grinning at the slow pain he administered. Forget what she promised, I'm going to make sure that this hurts you.

For fifteen minutes all room of the dark manor was filled with the blood curdling sounds of the pain induced screams of a tormented man.

~*~

Bent over the large desk made of a beautiful redwood Klarion kicked his feet back and forth beneath him as he looked down upon the handwritten script of Morrum's pages.

I got rid of that belt like you said. It's in a dumpster half way across town. A glass of strawberry milk complete with a blue crazy straw was sat down to his right, If you were some normal kid I would think you were doing your homework. Medea spoke in a whisper like voice moments before she sat down on the edge of the desktop. 

But alas, my dear master, you are far from normal. She placed a saucer of cream onto the desktop for the anticipating Teekl who hungry began to lap at the offered dish accepting the random strokes against her back with a mew.

Taking the glass Klarion sat back in his chair. In a way this is homework. We don't want to make any mistakes and let the rest of the Justice League find out what we are _really_ up to. His dark eyes focused impishly onto the newest addition of his superhero collection.

Following his insidious glaze she winced at the sight. How hideous. She grumbled looking onto the bat-like Batman doll laid across the desk. I don't know why you chose to turn them into dolls; little cute fuzzy animals would have been nice. At least Teekl and my crows could have been fed. Her hand combed through his hair to drift across his cheek.

I have to keep my eyes on them somehow, until I need them that is. His narrow fingers ran over the Morrum's pages. Now we must get to work on forging this key.

Turning slight in her seat on the desk's edge she looked down onto her opened spell book. I don't see how those little decorations will make a key. 

Oh but it does, Medea. This is the key of power, the key to chaos, the key that will bring hell to Earth and all at my knees. He chuckled with childish glee.

She looked towards the clock; the beautiful gold plated hands told her that it was nearly 2 AM. Disrupt the balance of good and evil tomorrow; right now it's bedtime for chaos hungry little boys. She said leading him towards his room with Teelk following loyally behind. 

On the desk the brown pages of the book fluttered as if blown by the wind though there was none to speak of, the large heavy cover closed with a hollow thud with no assistance of a human hand it too feeling that it was time to rest.

TBC

DSP: Yeah, just in case some of you caught that I'm not fond of Zatanna. Call me crazy.

Random person: You're crazy!

DSP: Thank you. Til next time.   
Oh yeah about next time, it might be awhile sincewell. More or less I'm trying to explain a complex character without making them seem omnipotent (You know like when you use to play pretend and that one kid would always say he/she had all these powers and no one could destroy them. Then you'd clock them in the back of a head with a rock because they weren't playing fair. If not that might have been you.) and without turning this into a complete Mary-sue. Which means sooner or later a whole chapter might have to be dedicated to answer some of your questions.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

It was as if time had frozen, or rather it was moving slowly, moving slower and slower until it stopped. It was moving slowly as John removed the yellow belt from behind his back. And slower yet as it was hanging from his hands until it just seemed everything stopped and all that remained was a belt without its owner. It was a message all knew but none liked: Another has fallen.

"Bats never takes this off. Where did you find it?" Wally questioned cautiously reaching out as if the belt was some sort of fragile relic no human being should have touched.

"I was monitoring the surveillance for any sign of the others when Batman's signal went off."

"His signal?"

"Yes, it activates whenever someone takes the utility belt from him. As I said it was activated and it moved quickly stopping on Gleneden Ave. I found it inside of a dumpster, beside it was this." He produced a black feather.

Shayera took the feather into her hand running her fingers over the sleek grooves watching attentively as the black shifted to a beautiful color of indigo and blue, "Medea."

"So she got him too." Wally stated solemnly his usually cheerful face downcast with his sincerity. "Was there anything else she or B-Man left?"

As he questioned he began to take the belt from John's hand, whom wasn't quiet prepared to give the item over. When the two ends were pulled apart a compartment close to the buckle slid open letting a small black box drop from its hiding place and onto the ground with a small clank.

All eyes looked down on the device with genuine curiosity; a soft buzzing noise drew three pairs of eyes to the direction of the red dressed superhero.

"I didn't break it!" Flash said quickly moving away from the fallen device.

'Klarion the witch boy.' A smooth voice drifted from the object, a miniature audio recorder.

Batman's deepened voice arose next to accuse the female speaker of knowing the whereabouts of the child.

They listened as the woman weaseled her way quiet skillfully into the journey to the witch boy's home. '- I'm coming too.'

'No, it's too dangerous and you will only get in the way.'

'Oh? So what are you going to do if or when you get to your friends and the Morrum? If you don't recall it isn't an ordinary book. Its power lures men only to deny them, use them for its own needs; but when it finds the one it wants as its mistress, in our case Medea…well let me put it this way it can be worse than a jealous lover.'

The voices exchanged back and forth one moment the deep voice of Batman the next the light tone of a woman. The conversations paused for a period of time before at long last it happened. The confrontation, the confession, and the trap.

A name had been given, a true name had been given to the darkness that they knew nothing of. "Klarion and Medea S. Azure." J'onn said the words everyone was thinking yet none were saying.

"So we know who we're up against, now what?" Wally questioned.

In a matter of moments they had all gathered about the computer searching the databanks for anything involving either their winged woman or the witching boy.

"Klarion, a witch boy. It seems he and Batman had a run-in with each other a while ago, something about a branding iron and the demon Etrigan." Shayera read as John typed across the keyboard.

"Wouldn't that make him a warlock since he's male?" John Steward questioned.

"A common misconception, but the name 'witch' pertains to both male and female." All eyes suddenly snapped backwards to Flash, "What? I heard about it on a documentary on the witch trials on the Discovery Channel."

"Well since we already have a file on him what about Medea?"

Just as John had typed her first name an emergency call brought their work to a halt. "What is it?" Shayera asked once J'onn returned with the most peculiar look on his face.

"They're at the Metropolis Museum of Natural History."

A little before the emergency call…  
"What do you mean 'he won't'?!" Klarion demanded casting disbelieving black eyes towards his minion hidden behind a long brown trench coat.

Medea sighed regretfully as her eyes focused on the ancient pottery behind the sheet of glass. "Just what I said, Master, he won't. Morrum's pissed that you used one of his spells and now he's hording it. You know how he is about the human male gender."

Although the young witch was greatly known and feared for his power even he was prone to the child-like belief that all those older than he were in fact capable of doing anything within their power but chose not to in their own laziness. "Are you sure?" He asked his voice heavy with skepticism.

Medea took a deep breath to calm the growing annoyance before carefully explaining to the child accustomed to having his way, "Yes, each time I go to take a look at it the page is blank. I've bribed, begged, demanded and whatever else I could and he growled at me, translated simply as 'no'. We'll just have to make due with some other way to keep the Justice League in check."

"That book of yours is a pain. We should have chosen something more compliant."

Medea chuckled allowing her eyes to droop affectionately on the reflection of Klarion, "You know as well as I that I was destined to own it, besides all the other books are obsolete compared to my beloved Morrum."

After a silence settled between them the black haired boy turned his back, silently announcing his boredom of the entire building. "Get to work."

Pulling a cigarette from the pack in her coat pocket she lit up. "As you wish, Master Klarion."

As suspected a stout security guard with the physique of a linebacker trotted quickly towards the trio, as if happy to have something to do for the day. "Ma'am, I'm sorry but this is a smoke free museum. If you would like-" His small speech was cut short as her long narrow fingers curled over his shoulder in a tight grip.

"I'd like to do as my Master asked." She spoke softly before pitching his large body through the glass display.

At the sight and sound of the poor man's body flying through glass and pottery everyone had quickly turned to see what had happened. Once the glass had shattered a loud alarm wailed throughout the building.

All eyes befell the backside of the woman who had began the ruckus, they watched as the coat slid down her arms revealing a near bear back with two diagonal scars running from her spine to the curve just above her rear.

The scars split open releasing a large pair of wings a shade of black darker than the shadows that had a glow of blue.

None of the three near the crime scene moved at the thunderous sounds of running feet and guns being rid of their safety mechanisms behind him, it was as if they were merely seen as problematic insects at a cook-out, there only to be ignored.

"You there! Stop what you are doing, slowly turn around, toss your weapons to us, and then put your hands over your heads."

Klarion laughed as he and Theodore backed away. "Medea, do as they say."

She nodded as she slowly turned pulling the long length of chain from around her torso and upper thighs.

"Good, now toss it over here."

Medea's dark eyes lifted in a slow trance like manner onto the group. "As you wish." She said in her soft spoken voice before twirling the end once above her head and swinging it out towards the line of guards. With hard a tug of her hand she retracted the chain catching an arching sickle safely in her hand.

Unsure as to what happened the guards took aim, "I will not repeat myself!" The commanding officer shouted.

At their movements the tips of the barrels fell to the ground rendering their weapons useless.

The metal toes of her boots clicked against the false marble titles as she stalked forwards in a slow motion that one would think her moving through water. "This will be your only chance to run." Her tone low and dark in warning to all of those who chose to remain in their presents. With the message sent people wisely departed in a quick and un-orderly fashion.

Time passed none so slowly as the trio within kept entertained, or rather kept Klarion entertained, by toying mercilessly with what few people did not manage to evacuate the exhibit soon enough. While outside the four remaining members of the Justice League stopped before the towering building graced with four large stone lions.

Grumbling lightly Flash crossed his hands over his shoulders, "I remember when I use to _like_ visiting the museum."

A loud caw drew the scolding eyes away from the speedy hero towards a large black crow fluttering down to perch on the mane of the front left lion. It tucked a lame leg close to its body before silver beady eyes focused on the group. Bristling up its body so that its feathers stood out in a fearful pose it released another loud caw, a threat to the saviors.

"Well now we know for sure that she's here." Green Lantern stated looking about to see many more crows lining the window ledges.

"Then let's go in and say 'hello'." Hawkgirl stated before they charged the entrance unaware that the largest crow had flew off and had made her way inside via the opened moon roof.

Sitting on a small bench Medea and the one eyed man by the name of Theodore watched their master destroy a clay pot, that had been mistakenly classified as Native American pottery, against an unconscious teenage boy's back.

Her attention was drawn away when the large bird landed on her crossed knee. "Cagney." She cooed to her dark familiar stroking it across its soft crown soothing back the bristled feathers, "Master Klarion, bum bum bum the witch boy," She added beneath her breath. "The rest of murder outside is unsettled; the Justice League must have arrived."

"Good, then we shall leave the rest for you to deal with. Meanwhile we're off for the movies." The curt voice stated moving towards her.

"Very well, Master. But please be careful if you eat popcorn, seeing you try to pick the shells off the back of your tongue is nerve wracking."

"I hope that you'll have a present for me when I return." His voice spoke of no chances for mistake on her part. Though their relationship was pleasant and some affection could be felt between them he still proved to be a harsh master should she displease him.

When Klarion was nearly out of the exhibit a red blur stopped before him, "Sorry kid, but ever hear of the phrase, 'You break it, you buy it?' I hope you brought your checkbook." He stated as the others slowly began to file in.

Without warning a pair of talon-like boots slammed into his chest knocking him back into the primitive times exhibit.

"Some man you are, you have to pick on poor little children." She stated pulling her chain into her hands as she strutted into the room stopping short when she noted the remaining members of the Justice League pour into the large exhibit.

"Poor little children?! That brat?" Flash questioned.

Medea's dark eyes peeking from beneath the shadow of her cap slowly moved to scan about her opponents. From the lithe feline-like form of the Flash, to the hard face of the green eyed African-American man know to the world as Green Lantern. She sight moved with the slow speed of a sloth going undetected beneath the shadow. The Martian Manhunter, struck her as interesting with his face void of all emotions even whilst facing a woman who had taken his own teammates captive, bound by a harsh spell.

But even then none held her eyes for as long as the woman known as Hawkgirl did. She felt her heart flutter briefly, her breathing hitch making her raven black wings bob in rhythm with the deep lift and fall of her chest. The woman she had been happily been mistaken for as of her race stood before her giving her the most heated glaze. She felt like an excited child going to visit a shopping mall santa.

Recalling her orders she allowed the weighted end of her chain fall to the ground with a loud clamor aided by the rattle of the chains. "I can not allow you to ruin my master's plans." She stated gripping the small handle of the sickle. Letting the weight of the blade to draw four inches of chain into her hand, giving her the room to swing the sharp steel at her side.

Taking her mace in her hands in the offensive Hawkgirl sneered at the woman, "Let us try."

With a scoff Medea let the sickle fly, cutting sharply through the empty air between them to a large figure of model a Mammoth, slicing through the faux rust colored fur and supporting structure of the two right legs.

The room filled with a long whine of the metal skeleton giving way to the great weight pressed against it. The mammoth's body slowly swayed over to the right falling towards the line of heroes.

Reacting quickly Green Lantern aimed his ring towards the falling model. The ring enveloped the large hairy elephant in a green glow stopping it some feet above their heads.

Medea circled about the air above them watching the scene play out below. They were quick to react, something she was in the least bit surprised in. After all she had seen them in action many of times thanks to amateur videos that were aired in the news.

When the situation with the model had been pushed aside all eyes scanned upwards focusing on her. "Come now, we mustn't dawdle." She taunted seconds before those who were capable took flight and the Flash sprinted towards the stairs.

Taking careful aim she swung the sphere end of her chain twice above her head before hurling it furiously at Green Lantern.

Acting just as quickly a transparent shield appeared before the man dressed in green and black reflecting the attack. Undaunted her grip about her chain tightened as she spun about herself making the deflected ball swing in a wide circle returning onto the in-flight trio once more.

Dodging the ball both Hawkgirl and Green Lantern avoided injury but with the Martian Manhunter some distance ahead he was not aware of the length of chain cutting towards him until it and the ball wrapped about his waist.

"Do not try to escape; I enchant all of my possessions." She mocked seconds before grunting as she swung the alien into a pillar of stone that stood outside the third level balcony entrance of the Earth's Gems and Minerals Exhibit on the third level.

"J'onn!" Hawkgirl shouted with concern as the chain released its hold and the stunned green man began to fall forwards over the railing.

A blur of red quickly caught hold of the falling Martian saving him from the nasty fall. "Don't worry I've got him. Whoa!" He moved an inch to his right taking the Manhunter with him just seconds before the sphere crashed into the stone beside his head.

With wide eyes he observed the crushed surface embedded with the weighted sphere trailing a long chain that lead to the crow woman wielding it, "Ha! You missed!" He teased.

Her eyes narrowed almost playfully at him as if to state 'If that's what you wish to think.' Jerking hard and quickly against the chain she dislodged the sphere knocking Flash strongly against his back and onto the floor in minor pain.

"Hey, over here!" Medea flew backwards in time to miss having her head knocked from her shoulders by the mace brandishing Hawkgirl, but also in time to have a large green fist collide with her body pitching her form through the third level's exhibit, her body crashing harshly into a display case of diamonds.

Landing on the balcony Green Lantern and Hawkgirl joined the Flash and the Martian Manhunter. "That trick gets them every time." He stated coyly while he kept focused on the fallen woman.

Flash scoffed lightly at the crude humor holding strongly onto the sorceress's weapon. All eyes focused on the semi-pitiful sight of the dark winged woman groaning to voice her pain as she slowly sat herself up from the glass and jewels littering floor.

She moaned lightly as the glass fell always to tinkle against the ground as they met their ill fate on the floor beneath. The beak like hood that once sat upon her head had fallen backwards to rest against her bared back.

Pulling away the more visible and problematic shards her dark eyes fluttered up to the group of four staring menacingly down onto her.

"Medea S. Azure." Green Lantern stated her name drawing her full attention towards him.

She chuckled darkly in her throat pushing her dark twists of hair back only to have the locks return, "So Batman did manage to get my little secret out even after I got rid of his belt? I should have known, he was clever, that's why Klarion wanted to get rid of him first, but instead I got the other two. But all in all I must admit it worked out very well."

"Who are you and what have you done to the others?"

"Who am I? Any computer could tell you." Medea's eyes trailed lazily towards the Flash and a small portion of her weapon in his hands. "Whatever are you going to do with that serpent?" She questioned her words echoing with a hiss as a ring of silver encircled her irises. "Defixus a um prestigious arum."

"What?" Looking down onto his hands he found not a chain but the long heavy body of an anaconda slithering about them. Its sleek body wound around as it pivoted its large head to focus dark diamond shaped eyes on the group. A pink forked tongue flickered against its closed mouth.

It looked as though it were just looking at them, as if they were merely some boring animals resting in a zoo and it the lethargic child bored out of its wits.

But the pause in its movements and the slight jump of powerful muscles as it braced itself for action gave way that its intentions were not just to watch.

The air about them shifted as it opened its mouth with a long hiss. It struck with its long body moving to coil about the four prepared to squeeze the life out of them in slow suffocation.

Flash moved quickly to the side allowing the heavy body fall to his right.

"Shay, look out." Green Lantern warned desperately pulling her out of harms way.

"What?" She questioned unable to stop him from pulling her forcefully towards his body. Looking about the scene she was utterly confused. Flash was running back and forth with the long link of chains still clasped in his hands making the rest of the body quiver side to side in a long line of waves. And even J'onn was floating gracefully backwards constantly moving from a solid body to transparency.

Moving out of Green Lantern's arms she noticed Medea walking calmly always from them. Taking flight she gave chase, her face felt aflame as anger race through her veins, a trick. Whatever spell she had cast had the others seeing something out of her now harmless weapon.

Hawkgirl landed before her, "That trick isn't going to work on me." She almost smirked at the surprised look on the cheeky sorceress's face, but alas both expressions were shorted lived.

"You are immune to magick." Smiling slightly she lowered her head mumbling something under her breath. "I am so sorry, but I do not wish to fight with you." She said looking up again.

Baring her mace Hawkgirl growled, if anything she was going to fight with this woman, whatever she claimed to be. "I don't think you have a choice."

"Oh? But if you fight me what's going to save your friends from themselves?" She asked softly almost in a giggled whisper. "Besides what honor is there in fighting an unarmed woman?"

Hawkgirl looked over her adversary's shoulder to see the men were somewhat comically wrapped within the chain, Flash holding the curving blade of the sickle at bay as though he were truly struggling with it yet losing.

"Better hurry."

With the woman's words ushering her decision she flew towards the men grabbing hold of the sickle's handle and pulling it away from Flash's face

By her touch alone the spell died away reducing the once fearful serpent into a limp and useless mess of metal. "Hey, how did you-" Flash questioned as she helped him to untangle himself.

"No time," Glancing upwards she spotted Medea's dark wings carrying her up towards the open moon roof. "Listen; get the others free so we can deal with her."

Home free, a curious little phrase but at the time that was what she thought herself to be as she pushed the pane of glass farther open to complement the size of her wings. Her eyes smiled when she spotted the large crow with her lame leg awaiting her departure.

_Caaaw! _Cagney bristled her feathers to fluff out making her appear frightfully larger than she was as she screeched loudly. Taking the warning Medea turned back in time to have a lasso formed of her own weapon catch her ankle.

"Going somewhere?" Hawkgirl questioned flying quickly towards her with mace charged and raised.

Moving quickly the black winged sorceress pulled the chains still attached to her leg bringing it before her in time to stop the mace's descent on her lower belly.

They pushed against the other trying to force the other down while still airborne. With predatory eyes locked they sneered at each other with their strength pushing and pushing. "I told you, I do not want to fight you!" Medea hissed, in a matter of seconds her hands moved lowering the chain to wrap about Hawkgirl's wrist. Bringing up one foot she rolled backwards in midair pitching her opponent away from her.

Removing her enchantment on her weapon it returned to its normal length she wound the chain about her waist before flying out of the moon roof into open air.

"Outside everyone!" Green Lantern commanded watching as the white winged woman followed the other.

Flash was the first to make it out of the front entrance to see the silhouettes of the two aviators battling against one another with their rather primitive weapons.

Medea winced as the falls of the mace were coming closer and closer to her body. A small graze to her side threw her focus off enough to leave her body open for the last attack.

Hawkgirl roared once with a side swing aimed for her upper body.

"Aah!" The sound ripped from her lips as the electrocuting mace crashed down on her shoulder the soft buzz quickly changing into a sharp crackle as the electricity jolted through her flash numbing her senses.

Green Lantern, Flash, and the Martian Manhunter watched as their enemy flew from out of the sky, her large powerful wings no use to her at the moment.

"I got her!" Flash shouted speeding out towards the direction of the falling body. Jumping slightly he seemed to sprint on the very air below as he caught her with ease in bridal fashion.

Slowly Medea opened her eyes looking about for the ground on which she was to have fallen but instead found herself looking onto a yellow lightening bolt and a thin red chest. Her eyes drifted upwards to her rescuer who, still running, was looking down onto her with a cocky smile.

"You must be an angel fallen from heaven." He gave his usual cheesy comment. He noted as her cheeks darkened and her eyes still encircled with a ring of silver cast downwards in what seemed to be a shy blush.

Shifting her weight she brought her numbed wings open catching the wind roughly. With the sudden halt of her wings that acted as a parachute, the Flash went toppling across the pavement whilst she rode against the rough air.

Landing none too gracefully she looked to the sky focusing her eyes on the black bird circling above, "Cagney, my love, come aid your mistress." She called quickly before the others could move to stop her.

The large crow that had before once stood with ease on the crook of her elbow landed no more than four feet away with a loud thud now ten fold it's original size.

She casually approached the large crow, her hands settling against its beautiful back, ever thankful for the spells she had learned and cast upon her beloved friend and pet. She cast her eyes backwards at the sprawled figure of the Flash that looked worriedly onto her. "I won't be taking any of you…this time."

She soothed the large feathers before mounting the bird's back the pair flying away vanishing from sight.

Defeated the remaining force of the Justice League stared at the empty space in which their hope of saving their friends had flown away with promises to return perhaps for more.

An Hour Later…  
Sitting amongst the pillows of her bed, Medea stripped of costume and makeup chewed on an apple while staring down at a blank page of her spell book. "Why must you be so stubborn? Do you have any idea what Klarion will do to the both of us if we can't carry out his wishes?"

_Yes. _The words bled into the page before vanishing again. _But I will not allow anyone to harm you._

"Morrum, he's a child! What interest do I have in him but to serve him as my master?" She asked throwing her hands up in exasperation.

"I hope that we are not interrupting anything." A dark voice stated.

Closing her book she gave him her undivided attention, "How was the movie?" She asked peering over her shoulder towards Klarion.

"It was boring and pointless. I already hate sequels and I think I am developing a hatred for prequels as well." He stated in his sheer boredom.

"Oh? Was it that horrible?" She questioned comfortingly moving to offer a seat on her bed.

"The one liners were crude, the sight gags all Hollywood clichés, there was no chemistry between the leading actors, tacky and pointless CGI, and over all a waste of an hour and twenty eight minutes of our lives. I could use some good news right now." He narrowed his black eye upon her as if to dare her to state the latter otherwise.

Taking the hint that he desired to see what she been sent for she reached her hand into her nightstand removing a small blue tinted diamond and another jewel the color of topaz.

"I had to have my back broken against a glass case to retrieve these for you." She added before giving them to him.

"Why ever did you do something so foolish?"

She laughed before taking another bite of her apple, "Simple, we don't want them to know what we are up to so soon. Let us not forget we have three more of those pretties and the scepter to find."

TBC

DSP here to tell you most definitely I'm going to explain who and what Medea is, was, or whatever in the next chapter.

Also thank you one and all for your reviews. It helps me with my fics and also give me a little ego boost. Aw c'mon you know when you get them you have that little swell in pride, why be modest about it? Admit it you like it. You love it!


	5. Chapter 5

DSP still holding onto Flash plushy both are holding a sign that says 'disclaimer': I love my Flashy-pooh, I love my readers, I love fruit, mushrooms, sushi, dark chocolate, and cake. But I don't love to be sued, so JL isn't mine, I just wanted to make sure we all knew this.

Chapter 5

In the darkness of night the slender form of a resting body could be seen through the sheer fabric of the mosquito netting of the canopy draped above to cascade in shimmering layers of silver.

Circled within a dark skinned woman laid curled into near fetal position, her round face pressed into the cool soft pillows whilst she hugged the large spell book, the Morrum, into her breast covered in a satin night shirt.

In her state of unconsciousness her thin fingers rubbed idly against the plated gold coils of the book's spine stroking against the leather, its musky yet pleasant smell drifting into her nose with each even deep breath she took in her slumber.

High above settled about the rafters where her friends, her murder of crows all nestled down in many nest made of twigs, bits of shiny litter, and oddly enough hundreds of clothes hangers. Their heads bowed down into their own breast they too slept in the peaceful calm of night with their mistress.

All was indeed peaceful until a prolonged moan rumbled from the woman's closed mouth as she uncurled from her rest her eyes opening onto the dark. A small fluttering within her chest aided with a feeling of love brushed against her senses.

"Wolfie?" She asked onto the emptiness before stretching her hands out past the spider silk like canopy to lay her hand down upon the headset of a phone.

The ring was low, a pleasant tinkling sound made by bells unlike the modern phones that worked digitally and what have you. Despite her expectation of the call her voice remained edged with grogginess, "Hello."

"This is a collect call from-" She did not allow the emotionless automated voice continue with its useless speech, she had heard it enough times to know what to do. Pressing the five in the center of the dial pad she collapsed back into the pillows of her bed fight off the silent call to return to her moments of peace.

"Wolfie, what's wrong?" She asked yawning in mid-sentence.

There was the sound of shifting on the other end of the line before a deep masculine voice spoke. "Sorry to call you so late, Angel. But you know I had a…um feeling that I'm going to be getting some visitors soon."

The news pushed aside her thoughts of drifting off to sleep. "How soon?" She asked aware that someone must have been behind him listening to every word he said.

"Very soon. I won't be able to call you anymore after this. Angel, what should I tell them?" The voice sounded desperate as if begging her to make a critical decision which in turn humored her briefly; after all he was older than her.

"Whatever they want. Listen Wolfie; don't get yourself into anymore trouble, especially because of me. Cooperate; tell them all that you know, okay?"

For awhile both ends of the line were silent only their breathing could be heard mingling in the ear pieces.

"Ok. Angel, I'm sorry about all of this, if I wasn't-"

"Wolfie, what's done is done. I'm a big girl now you can't be my big overbearing brother all the time."

Again he was silent before sighing again in defeat. Feeling that it was her duty to ease his worries she smiled lightly hoping that somehow he could feel it, "I met her today." She said in a soft song like tone.

"Oh, at last? How was she?" He asked, the tinge of sorrow in his voice replaced with happiness for her.

"She did not disappoint me. I can not wait until the time comes-"

"Angel," Wolfie's voice as her cut in made her halt, "You remember what I told you right? About this kid's plans and what will happen if he succeeds?"

"Yes. I know what I'm going to do." The seriousness of her words faded as she stretched out amongst her pillows allowing her free hand to brush the canopy net, a small smile tugging at the edges of her lips. "Or can't you _see_ that, Wolfie?"

There was a soft chuckle from the other line. "Angel, you never was the type to let some stay happily miserable. I love you girl."

"I love you too." She breathed before hanging up. A pain of guilt rapped at her heart with the knowledge that her own flesh and blood blamed himself for her situation in life. It was true that with her brother's imprisonment a hefty amount of stress was placed on herself, but never had she thought of blaming it all on him.

"After all I made the decision, so who's to blame but myself." She reasoned fighting hard against the human flaw to take the easy way out and place all responsibility for her current life on her brother.

Curling back beneath the sheets her eyes scanned about the room, her sight long adjusted to the dark. It wasn't so bad being Klarion's minion, she reasoned with morality.

The Past

She remembered the day very well when she had fallen into the dark void after an attempt of suicide only to awaken to find she had not died as she had planned from the extensive pills and alcohol but was alive and well.

When she had opened her eyes again all she saw was a glorious light that basked heavenly warmth on her chilled skin. The gentle coos of city domesticated pigeons harshly ripped her from her splendorous reverie of peace and threw her brutally into a rude awakening onto reality in an oversized bed in an oversized room.

The first person to greet her was the one eyes man, perhaps the age of forty, with a tray of clear foods for her to consume. Angered that her plans had been thwarted she did not want to be helped by the stranger, but the smell of the offered consommé quickly had her stomach pitted against her mind.

He had not helped her to eat, bathe, or dress, allowing her to struggle with her tired body most of the morning before escorting her weak body to a large study.

It was then she met her soon-to-be-master, Klarion the witch boy. He did not ask her why she had tried to end her own life, but asked what she wanted of the rest of it. After all what was she to do with her life going as it was and with the addition of her attempted of suicide, surely the world would not take kindly to that.

"You've tried to kill yourself, should word get out of such instability you will be forever tainted in the eyes of those around you. You can't ever return to what you deemed as normal." Klarion had stated that fateful day, "But should you choose to stay in my services then I can help you. Help you with your troubles, and help you to control your powers instead of them moving out of your control wearing you down."

She remembered sitting in silence of the armchair listening to the sweet voice of temptation lure her into world some did not believe truly existed except for in fairy tales, but then again stranger things had happened before.

With her state of mind it all seemed like the glorious light of hope in the deep abyss of despair cast in eternal darkness. Tired of the dark she reached for the light without hesitation.

She had the witching ways about her; underdeveloped since the last she had even thought about her so-called 'powers' was when her neo-pagan grandmother was still alive. In time he had given her advanced training in the craft while the one-eyed man by the name of Theodore Hedley trained her in combat. Even to the day they had bestowed her with an interchangeable sickle/ball and chain enchanted to extend and collapse in its length to suit her every command and suit her desires.

It was a year into her 'training' she was laying comfortably on the floor of her attic loft when Klarion had came one day holding a silver goblet in his small hands.

"What's this?" She had asked looking away from the book of herbs she was studying for the hour before moving onto the next.

The usual dark look in his black eyes did not waver as he smirked handing her the glass. "You desire wings don't you? Did you get a feather like I told you?"

She flipped to the first page of the book showing a beautiful black feather that shined a brilliant color of blue indigo in the light. "I got it the moment you told me to, Master." She said showing great pride on the outside while within she laughed at the notion that that she, a woman of 20, wished to impress a mere child.

The spell was simple, something she had rehearsed over and over again when he had told her of it. She eyed the darkly beautiful feather as the foreign words flowed like black honey from her own lips. She had found it littering the ground where Cagney, the crow with a lame foot nested about (She had found the poor bird hoping in a grocery store parking lot unable to get airborne instinctively she brought it home to mend.), the way the colors changed before her eyes when the suns shinning rays struck the lovely surface made her breath hitch. Instantly she knew she had to have wings of such color. When she realized the breed of bird from which it had fallen the excitement grew, crows and ravens all had a great history as mysterious and powerful figures. They fitted with her plans perfectly.

She drunk the liquid from the goblet, it wasn't as sweet as the scent made her believe, rather like a bitter nectar made thick by tasteless honey. But all the while bearable.

As the concoction was making its way down her throat Klarion drew the feather down her lower backside painting on two nearly crescent shaped diagonals moving from her spine out to where the hem of her dress stopped above her rear.

She sat the goblet down beside her, her heart quickening with anticipation as the incantation was coming to its end.

She did not know what to expect of her change, the books did little to describe what she was to feel, would the wings just suddenly appear, or would they grow over time? For some odd reason the spell's description was rather lacking in details.

Just as quickly she suddenly found out why, so not to discourage the use of it. The pain was immense starting at the very tips of her toes moving slowly upwards the feeling of hot pins and needles being hammered into her flesh relentlessly moving down to the small of her back where the feather brushed marks were painted. Falling forwards onto her stomach she writhed in her pains.

Fire, she felt like she was on fire and every move she made fed onto the flames engulfing her with a painful suffocating heat.

Groaning deeply her tear filled eyes focused on her nails as the opaque color became murky slowly turning a translucent black. "Ooow." She howled when the pain merely increased when the sickening sound of flesh stretching to complement the bones of her fingers as they elongated making her hands resemble something like claws.

The heat clustering about the markings on her back grew until the dark marks elevated with the growth of two small humps. The skin atop the small lumps growing over her backside exploded with long black feathers spraying blood back in a slanted splatter across the wall. The droplets flying all over as the new wet appendages moved wildly in her adjustments.

For the most part the pain had dimmed but was still intense enough to have tears pricking the corners of her eyes but to her a great relief, it as if someone had throw frozen water over her burning body. Tired and highly exhausted she collapsed to the wood flooring huffing deeply with labored breaths making the bloody wings bob with the heavy lifts and falls of her backside.

Her eyes spied her forgotten master seated on her bed with his legs folded before him, "You did not say that it would hurt." She huffed regretting her words as even speaking made the pain spike and dull in pulsating waves.

Klarion smiled after enjoying the sight of his new minion's transformation from the bed's foot. "Everything comes with a price."

"It still hurts, and my hands are cold." She softly stated edging off the sting slightly.

"It will fade in time, but you still have a price to pay come the finial stage of your transformation."

"Pay for what exactly?"

He never answered her he simply warned her that she had a long night ahead of her.

Taking the chance she crawled into her bathroom, the cool tile and porcelain felt wonderful to her skin. But the feeling faded as Klarion's mock warning came upon her leaving her in fits of pain and continuous vomiting throughout the night well into early morning.

But when at long last the pain had stopped and her body was released of the spell she gathered herself before the full lenght mirror to gaze delighted at her wings, _hers._ Something she had desired for so long and finally was able to obtain. With uncontrolable fits of giggles she gave in to her exhaustion to rest.

That was the first change, the change to her body to accompany her wings, the shifting of organs, and the reformatting of bones making them denser yet somehow light enough to be lifted by the black wings now protruding from her lower back.

Her second and final change did not come until later, long after she had master her wings, both hiding and calling them forth and using them to take her into the sky above. Her second change came with a much greater price than the debt she paid in excruciating pain when she was bestowed her wings. It came at a price she wasn't so ready to pay.

Then it happened, the day she took the book for herself. Larouse was a fool; he knew what he had gotten. When she had happened upon him in his home he was in the midst of conducting one of the simpler spells.

He too had fallen victim to that human flaw of greed. Her rudimentary knowledge of the man told her of his power-hungry and chauvinistic nature and if it wasn't for the ironic twist that the very book that could give him all the power he desired wouldn't react to his commands because he wasn't female he would have been as he wished.

With a heavy blow to his spine via her ball and chain she took the Morrum, which called alluringly out for her to take, back to the manor to Klarion for the 'waking' as he called it.

After getting Klarion's approval she went about the process of 'waking' the book.

"Wake up sleepy head." She cooed before pressing her thumb into the sharp pin of the clasp lock on the cover, flinching when the skin broke and her blood flowed over the pin spreading into the hallow coils.

Klarion and the valet Theodore stood watching her lick her tongue over her lips in a sinful sense of pure euphoria. She felt it in her chest, her stomach, and her toes, it was practically everywhere, invading every sense, intensifying it briefly. It felt so good it was painful. Oddly enough, no man had ever made her feel as good as she did at that moment.

At long last the feeling faded and she withdrew her thumb instinctively placing the appendage into her mouth while the Morrum began to glow rejuvenating itself and adjusting to her needs. The pages were no longer brown and stiff with age but crème colored and pliable as if it were brand new, the inks were restored and the spells where written in a fashion that could easily be understood.

There was something different about her scent, something missing. Decaying, the death of cells and her body, it had ceased. The feeling of dying, a feeling she was far accustomed to, had vanished like a distant memory. "I'm…I'm…" She could not get the words out of her mouth. "Am I immortal?"

One would have felt overjoyed at such news but she felt as though something precious had been ripped from her, just like the day the doctor announced to her with false sympathy that she had miscarried a six week old fetus and that it was impossible for her ever to have a child of her own.

Empty and numb, that was how she felt.

"What have you done?" She asked turning to Klarion with a wild look building hysteria. Her voice cracked as a sob ripped through her being, "What have you done?!"

Klarion's pale devilish face did not waver with the pained cry of accusation from his minion. "I've done nothing to you, it was the Morrum. It rather likes to be with its chosen mistress for as long as it desires. Besides you aren't immortal, merely bounded to the Morrum to live for as long as it is in exsitance. In my opinion it was a fair exchange."

"Fair? To suffer the pain of watching those that I love die while I remain the same?! How is that fair?!" She demanded angrily wiping the tears from her eyes.

"Everything comes with a price Medea, or have you forgotten that already?" He asked cruelly staring at the broken figure before him. "And you can be destroyed but I doubt that book will allow its mistress to leave it anytime soon, lets not forget that Morrum was fabricated in the 12th century and has made it to now. And also keep in mind that you aren't indestructible or invulnerable, should you break an arm, a leg, or a wing, it must heal as any human must."

"Please no." She begged the tears returning. There was no telling how long it would take for the Morrum to be destroyed, in the process allowing her to die.

"Get over it Medea, you knew what you were getting into when you agreed to work for me." He said leaving her to mourn the loss of her mortal life.

Crying she crumbled onto the ground her belly cramped with her pained sobs, her throat soar from cursing the world about her and her own ignorance. Succumbing to sleep doing nothing else but accepting her cruel fate. She gave a feverish laugh in scorn to herself, to live forever until all was gone, perhaps she would keep company with that other immortal, Vandal Savage, for as long as she could stomach yet another power mad fool.

Present

The morning had at long last chased away the darkness and the shadows that hide the modern day monsters. Cracking open an eye she growled at the bright light of day cursing herself for having foolishly forgotten to close the curtains. Stopping her curse of the sunlight short she observed a feeling of great content and comfort. Looking for the source of this feeling she lifted her dark wing to reveal a small pale hand hanging over her hip and resting somewhere within her silk nightshirt. Following the hand she peered at Klarion snuggled against her back snuggled happily between her wings.

She had wondered many of the times after that day if she regreted the choices that she had made. At times she could answer 'no' then again when she thought to her fate she could answer 'yes'. But in the end the answer was the same as was her destiny. Now she had no choice but to accept it until the day came someone could end her existance whenever that my be.

"Disgusting little pervert." She grumbled removing his hand from the innards of her shirt and pulling him into her embrace. 'I am Medea, the sorceress, lady of the crows. I am not good nor am I bad. I am gifted with powers beyond human understanding. I am cursed to witness and feel the mortality that is denied of me. My existence is tragic. But for my master I shall live it.' She thought slipping back into the world of sleep.

TBC...

DSP again I hope I've answered some of the questions asked. But then again what of the intro of 'Wolfie'? Why doesn't Medea want to fight Hawkgirl but finds no trouble in taking down the rest? Why am I asking these questions? Who knows I'm just nutz my duckies! Thank you Yami for that word, I haven't stopped calling people that yet.

And thank you all for your reviews!


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

All was quiet; a certain stillness lingered about that screamed with uncertainty and tension. Spirits were low and stress high; it seemed as if the first person to destroy it would have his or her head snapped from its perch on the base of the neck by some wrathful entity.

The usual hum of the Watchtower's machinery droned softly with the sharp click of computer keys tapping away randomly, stopping and starting again like some odd Morse code.

Sitting before the large computer screen with a cup of iced mochaccino resting almost forgotten at his side, Flash speedily typed M-e-d-e-a. His fingers tapping away at the side of keys with impatience as the corner icon rotate showing its attempts of searching. "Fast access networking my red behind." He grumbled.

"Have you found anything?" A voice wary with the tension questioned from behind him as the three approached.

"I've found the file on Klarion. Right now I'm checking on everything I can on our mystery woman and that book of hers." Flashy reported rather dully. Dragging the cursor across the screen he clicked on the first site.

"Medea, daughter of Hecate the Witch Goddess. She was said to be the dark link between the underworld and Earth. Um Hecate not Medea.

Although Medea was mortally born as the Princess of Colchis, she was the niece of Circe, and therefore a powerful sorceress. She had serious power, but ended up turning evil when she was scorned by her lover, Jason. She ended up becoming a Goddess and ascending Olympus in a cloud of smoke in a chariot drawn by dragon."

"Jason of the Argonauts?"

"One and the same."

"What did he do to her?"

"It says here that after she had forsaken family and country for her love of him and had his kids he forsook her by getting engaged to Glauce and complied to have Medea banished. She was royally ticked and begged for a delay in her banishment. In that day she planned and took her revenge."

"How?" Shayera questioned scanning the web page for herself.

"She gave Glauce an expensive robe and gold crown laced with poison that ate away her flesh when she put them on. When her father went to take it off the poison got on him killing them both."

"Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned." John stated dryly.

"That's not all. Soon after she killed her own children so that no one else would try to get vengeance at her through them. She wasn't cold hearted when she killed them; it says here that she was rather hesitant in doing so."

"So what does this play have to do with the Medea we're dealing with now?"

"It might have been useful to us. But I did find her file." He clicked on a minimized window bringing forth a photo and bio. "Azure, Medea S. Born in a mountain town of Virginia, but her family kept moving around before settling down just out side of Metropolis. It says her mother, Lorraine Azure still lives there. And she has a brother, Travis Azure."

"Where's he?"

"In the Metro Prison for possessions of an illegal weapon and assault and battery charges. He did have a possession of narcotics charge but that was dropped a half year ago."

"Do you think we should pay him a visit?"

"Sure, shot gun!" Wally shouted jumping onto his feet and running out of the room.

J'onn took the vacated seat before the computer, "You go, I shall remain here in case of an emergency."

J'onn sat still in the oddly comforting silence, a meditative type of calm passed over him, something not too uncommon for the Martian. Though he found console with his new found family there was always that lingering feeling of grief the loss of his true family.

The simple moment of peace was short lived, the screen before the computer changed flashing the signs of an alert. Something was happening on Earth that the regular police force could not handle.

* * *

The tall structure of Metropolis Prison was a cold looking building with concrete gray walls looming from behind three barbwire fences, the rows upon rows of barred windows peered out into the world like tired eyes, long turned soulless and cold. The entire air about it screamed the famed line of Dante Alighieri's Divine Comedy, 'Abandon All Hope; ye who enter here.' It all defined the absents of high hopes, a feeling the Justice League had experienced before.

Walking confidently through the grimy halls they stopped before the visitor's booth, where a thin man blessed with orange wiry hair and cursed with adult acne sat back with the day's newspaper in his hand.

A form appeared from behind a second desk, upon seeing the world's famous heroes standing before him, the bald man moved quickly to their assistance. "How can we help you?"

Green Lantern was the first to speak, "We need to talk to Travis Azure."

Looking down on the computer the bald man shouted back to his co-worker. "Hey Mickey, you know a Travis Azure?"

The man pulled down his paper to peer at the trio before them, "Oh, you want the fortune teller? Just wait in the room down the hall to your right. He'll be there in a few minutes."

It was raining again, in warm large drops of water that pelted down onto the earth below casting the night into a humid calm. The very colors about them seem to melt with a lovely sheen of nickel. It was odd; the purifying elements of the rain, it made the grungy sector of the advanced city appear clean.

But does the rain clean soiled souls?

She did not seem to mind the rain falling about her; in fact, with the distant look in her dark eyes fading of the silver ring, she did not even seem to know about it.

On the ground below her hovering feet her talon inspired boots laid in the long neglected grass. She hummed with her eyes focused on her upper legs, marred with childhood scars from falling on the concrete when she and her brother played too roughly, the warm droplets of water splashing down onto her skin. The ground below her shifting slowly forwards then back as she swayed lightly on the old swing.

The showering waters trickled down her round cheek trailing the black and blue make-up like colored tears before dripping off the curve of her chin.

Sheltered from the rain by the security of her arms the large black crow with her limp leg cawed softly as her mistress's narrow fingers began stroking against the feathers of its neck rocking slightly back and forth in the swing. And just before it was a lovely sapphire, freshly taken from its owner.

Medea's lips, painted an interesting shade of blue, parted slightly as her soft voice carried into the rain filled air.

"If you are lost in you way  
Deep in an awesome story  
Don't be in doubt and stray  
Cling to your lonesome folly."

If the rain could cleanse, then she was in need of it for the act she had just performed under the command of her child master, and she would need it even more for the things she would do in the near future for him.

"Why are you here? And what have you done with my companions?"

The dark woman's humming voice did not cease, the only sign that she acknowledged his presents was a slight shift of her black wings.

* * *

Claustrophobic.

That was the first impression one got when they entered the small squared windowless room. Hawkgirl felt a small flutter in her chest at the close proximity of the four walls. It was so small.

It wasn't the usual room used for visiting, most of them was big and open, and given the type the prisoner and visitor was kept separate by a thick sheet of glass. No this one was different, for the sheer fact that they needed their privacy for the questioning.

The door on the opposite corner of the room clicked as a man dressed in the usual orange outfit was escorted by the red head man into the room.

He was tall, at least a good 6'3" with dull dark brown eyes drifting lazily about him before taking his seat at the provided table.

"Are you related to Medea Azure?" John asked as the man pulled a cigarette from his long mane of dreaded hair. Through near closed lids he eyed the trio of heroes while lighting the stick of tobacco.

A small cloud of smoke escaped his mouth as he began to speak, "Medea? Oh you mean Angel? Yes I know her, she's my little sister. I almost forgot her first name; she never really went by it until recently." He rambled slightly reaching into his pocket to remove a stack of cards and some photos. "To tell you the truth I was expecting you last night after you met with my sister."

"So you spoke with her recently?" Hawkgirl questioned all too use to the close knit workings of family.

"Yes," He nodded sitting out the pictures for them to see, "But that was after you didn't show up last night."

Flash was the next to voice his questions, "Are you like your sister?"

Travis smiled, his speech tinted with his amusement, "No. I'm nowhere close to my sister's level."

"How is it that she's a sorceress and you're-?"

"I said I wasn't at her level. I have some 'powers' in me, just not the same as Angel's." He corrected the red garbed hero.

"So she's human." Hawkgirl concluded.

"When you get down to it, yes. But in her mind she's changed so much that she finds it disgraceful to tint the human world as such by calling herself human." He stated removing the cigarette from his lips.

His eyes peered down at the last glossy photo in his hands before tossing it onto the table towards them. In the photo a much younger Travis stood near the parasol of a vender with his small sister propped on his shoulders. Her hands clasped beneath his chin as a large happy smile spread across her round face. She looked happy, carefree, nothing like the woman they had come across recently. The Medea they had met was a dark soul with her shoulders weighed down somehow.

"You know life…isn't exactly fair to everyone. Our mom, she worked so hard to give us the best but we were latchkey kids because of it. She was hardly around, Angel and I had to rely on each other and our grandmother, Livinna. Grandma Liv, she was neo-pagan or just pagan since she's been like that before it became a Hollywood phase."

"You say that as if it's the norm."

"Well it's not so odd for my family, we come from a long line of---um 'craft users': Voodoo priests, Wiccains, sorceresses, the list goes on and on. I, myself am a 'fortune teller'."

"You're psychic."

"Oh please, I prefer fortune teller, each time I hear 'psychic' I think of those scam artist on the TV with the fake accents. Ha, not so psychic were they when their businesses went bankrupt? Sadly I'm not so well trained, I get these _blanks_ sometimes and well…" He waved about him. "Some of the results aren't so good. Anyhow as for Angel, well after I got locked up a lot of things started going wrong and it all went to her. Our mom got sick, and then Angel had a miscarriage with her baby. She got so depressed she couldn't work or finish up college, then her boyfriend dumped her for some woman he'd been seeing for half a year now. It got so bad and not to mention the extra stress was making her powers go haywire, it's no surprise she's where she is right now with that kid. He was the only one who could really help her."

The tale did nothing to really change their perspective of the black winged woman; she had committed her crimes and held their dear friends captive, no matter how hard of a life a person has they still have the power of chose their own actions.

"Can you help us out? Tell us what they are up to?" Hawkgirl asked breaking the silence that had befallen the people within the room.

Taking a final puff of the cigarette Travis ground the butt into the table's edge, "No, even I don't know. But Angel did want for me to cooperate the best I could; so would you care to have your fortune read?" He asked while scuffling the cards, they realized were actually tarot cards, before him.

Green Lantern turned his back to the useless proprietor of information, "We don't have time."

"You don't even know what you're have no time for, you don't even know if it isn't already too late. Besides it might be of some help." Travis said in a cold sly manner regaining the man's attention.

Standing still they watched as Travis laid out the cards in an odd fashion. "Sorry, I have my own style with this." He flipped the cards over reading them as he went, "Bad things are coming." He spoke looking upon the Tower. "A drastic change. Whatever that little brat is up to I can assure you that we ain't gonna like it."

"So what happens if Klarion succeeds with whatever it is that he's working on?" Flash questioned intrigued with how the 'fortune teller' worked.

With eye closed Travis reached out his hand and plucked a card from the splayed deck. With the sapphire back facing the group he showed no emotions on his squared shaped face as he flipped the card over for them to see the answer of their questions, the fate of the end, the answer to their questions.

A skeleton dressed in black armor rode upon the back of a horse, with what appeared to be people at their feet.

Death.

The shudder was quite visible to all of those present in the room. Even the so-called nonchalant guard gave an involuntary jerk of the spine.

"So this is what's going to happen?" Hawkgirl asked hiding the fear in her tone.

"No, this is a possibility of what can happen **if** something isn't done. The future is quite…unstable, always changing. It's the final destiny that can't be altered, just the paths taken to get there. Think of it like a pond and when you throw a rock into it ripples form, but in the end it is still a pond just with another stone in the bottom."

Flash shuddered, "Ok, can we go now? This is really giving me the creeps."

"Yeah, let's go." The Green Lantern commented making his way towards the door.

"You, with the wings." Travis called lighting another cigarette.

"My sister. She did not fight with you." It was not a question rather a statement of the facts. "I take it that you don't know why."

Hawkgirl turned from the door way, "And you do." She stated tersely.

"Angel." He breathed the word so softly releasing a stream of smoke as he closed his eyes. "In the end, when the time comes, it's going to be up to you."

"Don't you have any fears about what they are trying to do?" She demanded angered by his relaxed state.

Dark eyes opened once more to look none too kindly at the winged woman, "Yes. I have a fiancée and a son out there waiting until next year when I get out. That is if there is a next year." His eyes closed again as he relaxed into smoking his cigarette. It would seem he had said all he had to say, he could tell them nothing more since he himself did not know of much. "Another falls tonight." His impassive voice drifted to their backs.

"What? Another falls- J'onn." In hast the trio had departed moving in vain hopes of saving their teammate.

"Azure, Angel, sister. What are you doing? Why can't I see it?!" Travis demanded sending the tarot cards flying about wildly in the air.

* * *

Finding the human woman's lack of heed an annoyance he readied himself to speak again.

"If you are concerned of your friend's health I'll give you this much, they are…_somewhat_ alive." She stated never removing her attention from her bird as she affectionately stroked its soft neck. "What a pretty bird you are, Cagney."

"How can I be sure that what you are telling me is the truth?"

"I'm not a witch like my master, though I practice both dark and light magic. I took an oath never to kill with the gifts given to me. But that doesn't mean I won't resolve to using other tactics."

He's brow met as he glared at the back of the infuriating woman. She seemed so harmless yet she was so dangerous, a mysterious enigma, his enemy. The accused woman who now held three of his friends, ones he could consider family, hostage yet demanded nothing for them.

"Please do not feel that way towards me, your emotions are misplaced." Her soft voice in the trickles of the rain cut into his train of thoughts sparking forth a great revelation.

"You are an empathic." He avowed looking onto her back which she had yet to turn.

"Slightly. I've been like this for so long, as long as I can remember actually. It's hereditary, the marker of my _sorceress powers_." She scoffed lightly at the term. "It's a real pain, knowing how other's feel. But that's the way we channel our energy so that it doesn't kill us. When I was a child I was always picking up on people's feelings, figuring out what was bothering them, it's annoying really. It can tear at a person's will. It tore at mine until I got tired of it.

"Then…the devil saved my life from my own destructive hands. But, silly me, I forgot that everything comes with a catch. He didn't take it away like I had hoped, rather muted it. But now the main thing I can pick up, hear, and feel, is death. Each scream of a murdered life, each sob of a suicide, each silent sigh, each tearful cry, and death rattle echoes in my mind like the buzz of a fly. I can hear the tears and pain of broken hearts. The duty of the crow, the carrier of souls, I should have known." She turned away from him returning her attention back to her bird as her soft voice hummed soft lullabies into the rainy night.

"But then again, you can feel that as well." She said pausing in her humming.

"That and much more." He stated bluntly, his stance was still but all the more prepared for any attack she or her familiar might throw.

He tensed slightly when she stood, turning completely to look onto him. "I can feel your emotions. Your heart is so…so pained. You pine ever so much for something you have lost. But you hide it so well." His eyes widened at her words. She was reading him like some sort of open book.

"Your heart -" Her eyes encircled with the rings of liquid silver stared deeply into his, as if looking right into him. He had not known that she had moved closer to him until he felt her cold fingertips touch lightly on his cheek and her heated breath on his lips. "Your heart reflects mine." Her lips brushed tenderly across his, a simple touch of flesh to flesh, a careless kiss.

The kiss was nothing just a small peck, he could feel she had no desires to harm him at the moment, her master's bidding having being done, that reason alone he did not promote a fight with her. But what had happened next neither was prepared for.

A burning pain mingled in the pit of his stomach, a white flash of heat racing up and down his very body making him loose hold of his humanoid form.

Opening his eyes he witnessed the look of shock engraved on Medea's face. She seemed to be growing slowly moving to tower over his own body. A steady beep from his communicator made the pain worse as he moved to answer the call.

"J'onn, be careful Medea-" The frantic call of Flash's voice was lost as he could no longer keep hold. It was getting worse as he felt invisible hands curl around his neck and plunge into his chest to squeeze his heart.

"Morrum! Stop it!" Medea's frantic cry into the rain was the last sound he heard as the world about him gave way to the dark.

* * *

Flash slammed his fist atop the console; the line had crackled soon after J'onn had managed a strangled groan of pain. "She got him too."

The moist air about them suddenly felt cold as the fear seeped in.

What if they couldn't stop them?

* * *

Klarion rolled the sapphire back and forth between its entrapment of his thumb and forefinger; he listened with great interest as his minion, standing on bending knee, related the night's unexpected events. "So that makes four of them now." He grinned wickedly with the news of his growing collection of heroes.

Medea stood to walk causally around the armchair, "Let's not forget, Morrum merely shrunk him instead of turning him into a doll. He continues to refuse to use that spell again." Gently pushing Teekl aside she leaned down to embrace the thin shoulders of her master, "I found him a great person to have a conversation with. I forget not everyone is use to hearing those voices as I am."

"You kissed him." His voice was low, a hiss of accusation.

She laughed pressing her lips to his alabaster cheek, "Are you like Morrum? Is my master jealous? You shouldn't be, not for the price he paid for it."

Her mirth annoyed him slightly, had she been anyone else, or rather anyone less, he would have seen to her death for her joy. But she was different, tolerable and enjoyable enough to keep about…for the time being. "Be careful of your toy or he's Teekl's dinner."

"It is already taken care of, and once he's awaken then I shall deal with him there on. Now, do you still want to go get some ice cream?" She asked kindly.

As Klarion stood to walk along side his sorceress he recalled just why he allowed her those small forthright moments.

TBC…

Alright um here are the sites I got some of my info on Medea the original from: you know to add the w dot stuff: paleothea . com and theatrehistory . com / ancient / bates018 . html (just don't space).

Oh virtual cookies to whoever knows what and where that song Medea sings came from.


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: Please forgive this lowly writer for taking so long to update. Weird (read as stupid mind numbing) things have been going on lately. But I finally saw the new JL show, JLU. And well I sorta held out until I was completely sure my favorite female hero was going to make an appearance. Though I feel I miss Flash and his sense comic relief now that they have a bunch of 'jokers' on the show now. (After HW and Flash, the Question comes as third favorite hero. I mean he was humming some knock off Brittany Spears tune while checking out a security lock and just when you think he's about to go hi-tech on us he just breaks the glass while still singing! So simple! It's genius!)

But if you're still mad at me I offer myself up for spankings. ;D

Chapter 7

He wasn't where he was supposed to be, that he knew before opening his eyes onto the darkness. He was someplace else, someplace he didn't know.

It was odd, that was the first thing that he had noticed about the still and silent air about him. It was like reality was nothing at the moment, just the feeling of surrealism, a dream where he could skate the edges of reason and logic.

But then how would he know when he never dreamed?

Had he been the type to drink he could blame it all on that, blame the drowsiness and the feeling of displacement all on the naughty booze. But he was not, ever since finding his freedom on the blue planet that neighbored his home-world he had not touched any of the small pleasures the human race indulged in called alcohol.

The memory of before was slowly returning, bringing him to peace with the growing confusion in his mind as to his whereabouts. The ones responsible for this feeling flashed before his eyes in order of power: the witch child, the minion, and the book.

Opening his eyes he was greeted by the dark. A soft sort of darkness that lingered in the early hours of morning. The random shifting of many wings adulterated the suffocating silence hovering about give knowledge that he was not alone wherever it was that he so happened to be.

The quite broke when distant humming drifted to his ears slowly announcing onto him that someone was approaching. The tune, he did not know, had a melancholy resonance flowing strongly with the emotions of whoever was humming.

The humming grew louder as the singer, female by the sounds of it, paused to open a door someplace in the dark abyss before him. Light steps upon the floorboards drew his eyes, peering vainly into the black, towards the source.

Suddenly, as if a switch had been flicked on, a candle lit without any aid of a flame silhouetting a winged figure. The one candle seemed to be a trigger as one by one candles scattered about the attic loft popped as they sparked into life.

With light to see J'onn spied Medea with her pet standing steadfast on her shoulder while she held a tray in one hand and a large bowl trapped between her right hip and arm.

She was amazingly huge, perhaps towering a good fifty feet or so above him. Taking a look around he could only conclude that either she had grown or he had shrunk, and given the scenery outdoors he felt the latter.

"Good morning, my darlings," Medea called softly bringing forth more excited rustles from above. "Breakfast time."

Sitting the tray down upon a desk she moved swiftly to the window not too far from wherever he happened to be imprisoned. Dipping her hands in and out of the bowl she tossed its contents out onto the ground and roof below.

Loud squawks ripped from the throats of the crows as they raced out the window in a large black cloud of beaks and feathers, hiding his captor from his sights for a brief moment in inky black movement.

Medea smiled at seeing her lovely murder happily picking their breakfast from the ground below, pleasing them was far easier than trying to do the same for Klarion. It was nearly impossible to keep in the good graces of chaos loving child, 'This job is too meddlesome, if I continue to get those gems and manage to get my hands on that specter, no but then-' A soft peck on her cheek brought her out of her thoughts, "Sorry Cagney, let's sit down and eat."

Picking up the tray with bowl still held firmly in her hand she approached the large Victorian style wooden dollhouse that for the time being acted as a hotel for her company.

"Morrum." She called over her shoulder, "Be a dear."

The process of shrinking from her already small height to a few inches tickled every nerve and pushed cruelly at her belly making any thoughts of digesting anything in the near future a mere dream. The harsh caws and constant shifting of the crow upon her shoulder told her just how much her friend did not like the process either.

Opening her eyes Medea found herself face to face with the passive looking Martian. She allowed the slight dizziness to pass before addressing him, "I hope that your new quarters suit your needs." She stated stepping through the opened back and into the large living room. "And I hope you like oatmeal, it's my special orange and cinnamon."

Keeping a wary eye on his captor he wondered just what she was up to. First she kidnapped him and his companions, fought against them while stealing pottery from a museum, and now she was feeding him? Her sudden act of kindness was not warranted. "What am I doing here?" He questioned following carefully after her into the house's dinning room decked out with all the accommodations of any normal eating room.

Sitting down the bowls she took her seat and began eating while her bird took her desired portions from the feeding bowl.

"I ask that you answer my question."

Her eyes locked onto him almost in wonder before she removed the spoon from her mouth and answered, "Because I…kissed you Morrum got upset and decided to punish you. We are fortunate that he only shrunk you down to the size that you are now. I could not leave you behind so I brought you back here. For the time being you are my…guest. You are free to try and leave, but the murder will not allow for you to go far, in their eyes you are a lovely green snack."

"You say that as if it has feelings." J'onn stated taking a seat before the bowl of oatmeal swirled with cinnamon.

"It…_he_ does. The history behind that book is rather disturbing but let me just say the creator of that book, Eckgard Morrum, was a witch who literally put his heart and soul into my Morrum. In fact more or less he is it. Sadly it's the only book in existence that has the spell that Master Klarion wants."

J'onn frowned watching as a faraway look passed over her face. "What is he planning?"

"Why don't you read my mind and find out? Either way it is useless with you stuck here and your friends out there." She motioned with a slight jerk of her head.

"I can not read that but I can see you're fascinated with one of the others."

Smirking Medea stood to walk out of the dollhouse, "I should think with which one it would be obvious. But until then it is best that you sit back and relax, you might just like how this plays out." With a snap of her fingers the crow flew onto her shoulder.

He watched as she turned her back to him, either in a sign of trust that he would not dare attack her or in insult that he was not strong enough to pose a threat in her mind, he could not tell. Her mystery enraged him, her utter indifference to the situation made the muscles in his face close in together to form a slight sneer he had seen man perform in the directions of their enemies.

"As I said before your aggressions towards me is rather misplace. I merely do as I am told, so you can not truly blame the minion who is only obeying her master. Please do not think that I have any intentions of harming you while you are in my keep, I can prove rather civilized when I'm not working."

* * *

All was not well in the HQ of the heroes, their base of operations The Watchtower hovered as it always did above the Earth keeping its silent guard on all, but within the air was dense with despair and anxiety. The very walls that once witnessed playful antics exchanged among friends now echoed the hollow sighs and groans of frustration.

Sitting on the large couch with mind and body weary John looked towards the remaining female member of the team, she sat forwards with her head resting in her hands held up by her knees, her helmet sat on the table before them somewhat abandoned, it's only company the previous day's newspaper.

He could remember a time that when they were given such moments he would flirt, passing her quick pecks on her lips and cheeks while planning their next date out. But that seemed so long ago, a far distant memory back when things were better.

It was time they went back to the task at hand of trying to figure out what a child, known for his mischievous actions, was up to. "What else is missing besides those pots that they broke and stole?" He asked.

A deep breath of air escaped Shayera's mouth before she leaned backwards resting her back fully against the cushion of the couch ever mindful of her wings, "The pots were later found by the police in a mailbox about six blocks away. The report came in yesterday."

They were perplexed, what was going on from their perspective made no sense, "So why were they there? They could have just been at the museum just to vandalize the place and taunt us." John stated aloud, sharing his thoughts.

"No, they must have been after something else," Shayera reached out grabbing a bottle of water, "For all we know they probably got it and the clay pots were just a decoy." She voiced before downing a few refreshing gulps.

"Shy's right, the pots were a total decoy." A new voice joined into the conversation seconds before the figure dressed in red walked into the doorway.

"What were they a decoy for?"

Wally crossed his arms over his chest, his usual playful air failing him at the moment, "I was at the museum helping them check their inventory. It seems two gems are missing. And last night another was stolen; the surveillance cameras caught our second favorite woman with wings."

"They're after gems?"

"So far she has stolen a blue diamond, a topaz, and last night's was a sapphire. The odd thing is there were more valuable stones there for her to take."

"Was there anything important about them?"

"Nothing really. At least on a normal level, but on the occult meter we're not sure."

"I don't get it, what could they possibly do with those?" John wondered mauling over the latest tidbit of information.

"Well, given who we're dealing with, I say they have something up in that spell book of theirs." Shayera stated dryly. "But what?"

"Do you remember what the creepy brother said, with the cards and all? So far we know that what they are doing involves these gems and in the end if we don't stop them sometime soon they'll turn the world as we know it upside down."

"Well now that we know they are after gems we need to set up vigils round all the major jewel proprietors." John commanded standing onto his feet.

"And wherever there might be a valuable gem horded away, like the museums and displays?" Shayera questioned as she took hold of her helmet. It was then something caught her eye making her movements slow to a halt.

"Yeah, but how would we know which one Klarion would want next?" Flash questioned tapping his foot speedily against the ground.

John looked down upon the paper which had for some reason caught Hawk Girl's eye, for a brief second his eyes widened as he picked up the page, "How about a ruby? A duchess of some sort has one, she calls it the Sunfire Ruby, and has brought it with her as she travels a cross the country for her vacation."

"Sounds good to me, where is she now?"

"At the Grand Plaza Hotel of Gotham." Shayera stated while pulling on her helmet regaining the intimidating façade of Hawk Girl peering from behind the gold colored beak.

* * *

Gotham city, once a dead metropolis struggling in its poverty had somehow miraculously bloomed into a marvel of ancient gothic architecture blended magnificently with modern style and technology. The only disadvantage of the brilliant choice of design was the over all color scheme, old drab and dark colors most likely chosen by some depressed artist whose life reflected heavily in his art. But that did nothing to stop people from living there contently if not as equally disheartened as the sight of the city they resided.

What really brought a turn about to what could in turn be a dismal place was when the sun went down the lights were turned up casting away the shadows with neon glows screaming for the nightlife.

After a lovely night about town with her 'friends' the lovely duchess Jarva Norwell sat in the bar of her hotel laughing merrily with the other guest as they all came about to introduce themselves with hopes of gaining their fifteen minutes of fame somehow through her.

"Jarva dear, you have such a lovely ruby. Even with the guards and safes they have around here I would be petrified to bring such a costly thing with me anywhere." A woman wearing a black halter topped dress commented holding a glass of whiskey in her lack hand. "Goodness you have some chutzpah. However did you come by it, family inheritance?"

Taking in the smaller woman's quizzical appearance Jarva flashed her well paid for winning smile before running her finger lightly over the gold chain necklace with ruby pendent, "Quiet easily really, I got an ex-lover in Peru to get it for me." Oh how the young duchess loved showing off her expensive possessions to those who coveted her privileged life. "For some reason he was under the impression that I would marry him if he gave it to me."

The woman's eyes grew wide with scandalous amazement, "How in the world did you manage that?" She asked with a squeal accenting her voice.

"Simple darling. Just know what you want, do whatever you must, and then take it." With that Jarva laughed merrily at how her choice of reasoning had thus far worked so well for her and countless others.

"Words to live by?"

"Words to live by."

A small grin played over the face of the woman dressed in black, her hand shot outwards grabbing hold of the necklace, with a tug the chain was broken and the jewel in her hand.

"What is this?" The duchess screeched while touching her now naked neck with horrified surprise.

All eyes turned to the woman in black standing before them with the most impassive look marred by a small smirk tugging at the corner of her lips. From behind her a pair of pitch black wings sprouted from her back giving her a slight angelic appearance as they caught the light flaming shades of blue and purple, "Karma darling, karma." She said turning to leave the bar.

"Someone stop her, she has my ruby!" The selfish whine rang above the commotion.

From various places around them bodyguards and even those who were undercover jumped onto their feet all aiming guns at Medea. "I suppose," She began in a soft voice pulling the chain from underneath the waist of her dress the slight handle of the sickle fused to the chain slipping easily into her hand, "I could stay a bit longer."

* * *

The Javelin landed not too far from the hotel, forcing the trio to race to the scene by foot, wing, and power ring. Sliding to a halt in front of the Grand Plaza Flash looked towards his companions, "So how do we find her?"

Suddenly the tinted glass wall that once covered the front of the hotels prized bar and lounge shattered as two distinct bodies went flying through to land uncontrollably on the glass showered sidewalk.

"Does that answer your question?" Green Lantern questioned holding up his ring for the defense. They watched a talon styled foot step out the broken window crushing the glass underfoot with uncaring indifference. Dazed looking eyes trailed in a jaded fashion from the useless men to the three standing before her.

"I was not expecting you this time." Medea spoke in her usually soft spoken tone a silence loving librarian would envy.

"We thought you would be making an appearance."

"Master Klarion," She muttered something beneath her breath before raising the sickle end of her chain so that they may see just how deadly she was, "Is waiting for this ruby and I do hate to keep him up past his bedtime." As if her words were final her massive wings flapped strongly granting her altitude away from the standing heroes.

The very thought that she had actually believed for one moment that they would allow her to leave as simple as that was in some form rather shocking. Just when it seemed that their stupor was going to give way to her escape a green transparent quickly blocked her exit route. A sigh of irritation heaved from her plump lips only to be drawn into a quick hiss when from the wall sprouted clenched fists each flying towards her in quick succession.

Flying backwards into a midair back flip she moved away from the Green Lantern's wall right into the infuriated face of a warrior, the strong face of a battling archangel wielding a mace of power.

Forgetful of the dangerous wall at her winged back she brought her chain up in the defensive just as the mace was about to crash into her unprotected upper chest. The force of the blow bent both of the winged warriors over with Hawk Girl gaining the advantage of the fight. She watched, her piercing green eyes staring furiously onto the body movements of her opponent, a twitch in Medea's forearm alerted her that a counter was about to be preformed and the tables turned. Just when Medea prepared to push the other woman away Hawk Girl twisted her mace forcing the taut chain to coil about the shaft.

Medea could only gasp in surprise and dismay when Hawk Girl pulled her mace, with the chain still firmly attached, towards her right side forcing their bodies to press close together with her as the inferior.

Green eyes clashed with near blacks encircled with liquid silver. "Where's the Manhunter?" She growled pulling tighter on the chain.

"I had no intentions or need for him, his capture was an utter fluke. I'll happily return him to you should the chance be that we meet again." She tightened her hold on both the sickle and weighted ends of her chain, at the moment utterly useless with the given close proximity. The only way to break the hold was to either push away leaving herself open for attack or uncoil her weapon by releasing one end. Either way she was not pleased.

"Give up now and I might just go easy on you." Hawk Girl commanded.

With a smile Medea braced herself once more, "Please don't." Moving quickly she did not push back or let go fully of her weapon, moving in towards the direction of the pull Medea's body turned nearly upside down as she spun colliding the heel of her booted foot into the protected temple of Hawk Girl while in the actions of uncoiling her chain.

The blow to the temple left her perception slightly muzzy, Hawk Girl knew had she not been wearing her helmet a kick that strong would have rendered her unconscious. Shaking off the dizziness she pulled back, taking on the defensive unaware that though no longer completely coiled about her mace the crow-like woman's weapon was still looped onto hers.

Unprepared for the movement Medea hissed when the sickle end slipped from her grasps, the blade nicking the palm of her right hand releasing red beads of blood from the near invisible cut.

Aware of how sharp their adversary kept the more deadly end of her weapon, Green Lantern took cautious aim and with a careful eye waited until the twos' bodies were at a safe distance and fired upon the line of links still hanging lax about the mace.

Neither winged woman was prepared when what looked to be a giant green blade wedge its way between them and with great force severed the strong link leaving the blade to fall uselessly to the ground some fifty or so feet below them to clatter in sharp resonance against the pavement.

When the green blade retreated the two women moved on as though nothing had came between them Hawk Girl brandishing her mace with skill. Given the overall strength of the mace easily used in close combat it overshadowed the damaged chain with only the weighted sphere on its tail utterly useless in such close proximity.

The blow from the mace's brute force drew out a pained cry from Medea as her body fell some feet below Hawk Girl, a mistake on the heroine's part. Moving quickly as she had done countless times before in practice Medea swung the heavy sphere about to her side mentally grinning as the weight let up as it gained momentum.

The sphere blurred, whooshing loudly in a repeating drone seconds before Medea twirled letting the sphere fly out towards the hawk winged woman, crashing harshly into her left shoulder nearly knocking her from the sky. Pulling back on the chain as she would a yo-yo Medea caught hold of the sphere as well she could in the grasps of her slender fingers.

Hawk Girl grunted, ignoring the pain while keeping her eyes trained on Medea, the knowledge that her teammates were present to assist unregistered in her mind. "Is that all you've got?" She asked with a snide sneer. "Even a rookie could do better than that."

At her remark the dark woman's face turned down in a sinister scowl, the rings of silver that seemed to have been fading from her eyes blazed with fury. With a battle cry Medea flew headfirst into the set up, letting her anger rule over her judgment.

The sphere fell from her hand into a near instant spin; the repeating sound of the smooth body chopping through the air went on in a much faster pattern. _Whoosh-whoosh-whoosh-whoosh-whoosh!_ With a cry Medea released sending the sphere on a collision course with Hawk Girl's solar plexus.

Hawk Girl watched as the silver ball cut mercilessly through the air between them and waited until the sphere was nearly upon her before dodging to the side too late for her adversary to retract her assault.

The ball and trailing bit of chain flew by missing its target by mere inches only to be caught in its decent toward the ground by a sudden blur of red that dragged the unsuspecting Medea down with the force of it all. "I got it!" Flash shouted reeling in the length of the chain bit by bit, bringing with it his catch.

If one was to look onto the face of the dark winged woman no one would have realized that she was somewhat panicked, if she were to be caught her plans, oh all of her plans would be ruined. No she could not fail her master, not after everything he had done for her, not after all of her hard work to make it thus far.

Acting on a whim she wrapped the chain twice around her fist before regaining her composure, "Care for a ride?" She question flying upwards with great strength and speed one would have not believed dwelled within so small a figure.

Flash gasped in surprise when he feet were snatched off the ground and his body trailed after the fleeing Medea, who flew with the likeness of a bird drunk on fermented berries, zigzagged left then right, moving through the line of light post towing him behind her.

"Uh-oh!" Flash gasped aloud when he realized the dark woman's intentions with the trail of chain weaving in and out of the line of post. Directing his body he jerked from side to side swinging like Tarzan around the obstacles placed before him.

Clearing the hard posts Flash barely had the chance to sigh his relief when he was jerked higher into the air as the chain followed after Medea, "Very good, let's try another shall we?" She questioned loud enough for him to hear. They were some distance ahead of the others but regardless they were closing in on the highflying woman quiet quickly.

Before either Hawk Girl or Green Lantern could reach them Medea plunged downwards towards the busy four lane street.

Flying low she flew towards and above the cars as they flashed their bright lights blared their discordant horns and some city bred drivers even went the extra distance to put their heads out the window to curse at the flying femme.

"Yah crazy bi-ow! Hey!" A disgruntled soccer mom cried as a red boot stepped onto her head and just as quickly sprung off.

"Sorry!" Flash cried behind him jumping from car to car when allowed as he pursued their villainess. Sadly with his attention drawn backwards to those he had just moments before passed he did not notice the city bus until he collided quiet mercilessly into the frame. Hissing his pain Flash regained his footing running along side the passing bus, while the riders within gasped and pointed at the spectacle he made.

Turning her eyes back Medea frowned slightly, she had hoped that he would have let go of her chain long before they entered the sea of cars. She held no ill will towards him, especially after the flirtish comment he had paid her, but work was work and she had to be free of him and his teammates.

Shifting her eyes before her she saw that opportunity had presented itself onto her once more in the form of two large commercial moving trucks traveling side by side. Moving faster she flew towards the narrow space in between the two passing trucks. Turning her body to the side she spread out her wings sliding through with merciful ease.

Flash was quiet sure he would not be able to clear it quiet as easily as she had, the chain was carrying him through forcing him to perform the feat when suddenly a transparent green ramp appeared before his dangling feet. Acting quickly Flash sped up the ramp to the top of the first truck to run atop its roof and down again safe once more, or as safe as he could be half running and half flying through a multitude of cars.

"Flash, let go!" Green Lantern commanded striving for the prefect shot that would bring the joyride to a halt.

"I have a plan!" Flash shouted backwards moving his speedy feet briskly against the ground the few brief chances Medea actually flew low enough for a toe to touch the asphalt.

The game had grown rather tiresome in Medea's eyes as she once more failed to dislodge the Flash from her weapon. Well if he could make it through heavy traffic, she wanted to see what he would do pitted against a brick wall. As she drew near she released a mighty battle cry bringing her body to a halt eight feet before the wall while swinging the chain forwards.

Flash moved with the momentum of her swing straight into the wall, only to bring his legs up before him and springing back straight into the surprised Medea tackling her down onto the ground with a shocked squawk.

Hawk Girl and Green Lantern both arrived at the scene to witness a blur of red moving about something black as they descended quickly onto the ground. When the whirlwind had died and the dust cleared all that could be seen was Flash leaning against the graffiti covered brick wall with the sorceress lying on her stomach at his feet, bound by her own weapon. "You see, I told you I had a plan." He grinned.

It was Hawk Girl who pulled the sorceress onto her feet to prepare the usual arrest and bout of interrogation. "You actually thought that you could beat us by yourself?"

From beneath the curled curtain of hair shadowing her face a dry chuckle drifted into the air. "Whoever said that I was by myself?"

From above a great shadow fell upon the four casting them in darkness while the polluted air filled with a loud screech that sounded remarkably like metal scrapping against metal. All eyes looked upwards to see the massive sized crow diving down towards them.

"That's a big bird." Flash mumbled before hitting the ground as it struck.

As Hawk Girl fell Medea brought her knees up forcing them against the woman's stomach flipping her away from her bound body.

Amidst the chaos of the large bird diving and pecking wildly at the heroes Green Lantern had rolled onto his back and aimed once before firing a clear shot hitting the bird in its exposed breast.

"Cagney!" Medea cried sliding out of her chains to rush to the side of the bird as it fell onto the pavement. She petted her hand over Cagney's neck cooing soothing words of comfort, "You're going to be okay my love," She whispered stroking over the soft plumage with great tenderness that calmed the bird's twitching. "You've had a little shock, that's all. Nothing I can't take care of."

At her words the large crow shrunk down reverting back to its original size to be scooped up into a motherly cradle.

"How dare you harm an innocent creature?" She demanded looking at Green Lantern.

"**It** was trying to peck **our** heads off and **it's** innocent?" Flash asked with wide unbelieving eyes.

Medea continued to fuss matronly over her bird while reaching her hand to her wings plucking a single small black feather

"Gentle breeze to violent maelstroms sang to me my first lullaby, it will be your name I'll breathe the very moment I die." Her words echoed in a soft choir and the dark pupils of her eyes swirled into the color of melted silver as the spell began to take effect. All about them the world seemed to have still, the dry breeze that once pushed gently against them paused and every stray animal that lingered in hopes for a bite to eat had vanished into hiding foreseeing the peril. "Give wing to the weather push the rain, hail, and snow. North, South, East to West, doth the mighty wind blow." Taking a small breath she blew against the feather.

From nowhere the wind began to blow forcefully against them though it seemed to have no affect whatsoever on the spell caster.

The League tried, that she could see, to fight against the sudden windstorm but to no use, there was no way they were going to get to her tonight. Turning her head she watched them struggle for a brief moment more.

"There is black and white in the worlds but we reside in the vast area where there is nothing but the shades of gray. Keep that in mind for the future. Hawk Girl, when that time comes and you finally figure this all out I will not be so lenient." With that she blew once more on the feather allowing it to float out of her hold in turn causing the blowing wind to increase with a strong burst knocking them off their feet to tumble backwards.

Growling Hawk Girl stumbled to stand onto her feet, she was angered that the dark woman was just moments ago their captive and now because of a little wing she would surely make her escape. Screaming loudly she gave one mighty back swing of her mace cutting through the magnitude of strong wind bringing the air about them to a still.

All but the feather all traces of Medea was gone once more.

* * *

Some blocks away a woman wearing a long white coat spoke into a cell phone while climbing into a silver Mitsubishi. "Hello?" She questioned looking back into the backseat to check on the crow within the cage, she would be fine once they got home. "Yeah I got it. I'll be home in a few hours. Oh and my sickle and chain was broken do you think you can fix it? A modified kusari-gama? Yes I think that would work well for me."

She sat in silence for a moment listening to the party on the other line. "What's next?"

Looking onto the passenger seat she waved her hand in a silent command beckoning that the book open on its own accord. She watched as the words and illustrations bled onto the page appearing as if they had always been present.

"Tell our young master Klarion that the next one needed is the emerald."

TBC


	8. Chapter 8

Santanico gets all the cyber cookies for correctly naming the song Medea sang in Chapter 6 as "A Stray Child" from the .HackSign soundtrack.  
I'm actually taking a slight refresher course in English though it is my very first writing class other than the basic Literature and grammar (taught by instructors who knew even less than I did) I received in high school. So hopefully my grammar will improve and I won't make as my typos as I do.

But on the down side I think Puck (my computer) is about to die.

Chapter 8

Knowing that people you have come to care for was in trouble and no matter how much you wished to you couldn't help them was a frustrating obstacle indeed.

Each second felt critical, and each second wastes was like another grain of sand in an hourglass falling against them.

The red speedster quickly paced to and fro before the coffee machine; a cup of coffee in one hand and a pack of Oreo cookies in the other. Try as he might to turn the situation over and over again in his mind, trying to see the reason behind the chaos loving child's antics, he could find nothing to aid in their musings.

They had contacted everyone that they knew of who might have the slightest inkling of what was going on, but alas even they admitted to being just as confused as they were. The best they could get was a promise from Zatanna that she would check the _Ethernet_ for them for any floating rumors.

What did a few gems, both expensive and some meager jewels that could be found in an ordinary jewelry store, have in common? Why would he send a black winged sorceress bursting with unpredictable powers after them?

None of it made any sense and it was driving the team, or what was left of it, insane.

This was how Klarion liked things.

* * *

Medea wasn't there, that was good. Usually at the dawning hours the woman with the black wings was out someplace flying around with the crippled crow, feeding the rest of those lazy little scavengers that awful mess of offal meats and hard boiled eggs. But it did fatten them up quite nicely.

Birds, birds, birds, they were nothing really but a tasty little treat. They were a pleasant hunt, a small challenge since they are so keen to fly away at the slightest disturbance.

Moving covertly through the dark of the halls up into the stairwell that lead upwards into the attic loft a pair of eerie green eyes focused upon the door, left slightly ajar, just ahead.

A rough pink tongue darted out to lick with anticipation across her fur rimmed mouth. It was fun to stalk those feathery winged meals as they sat in what they believed were their safe little nests protected by that magic wielding bitch.

It was still dark, only as dark as the early morn made it for J'onn noticed that his captor wasn't one to keep her windows closed unless she was present in her home to do so herself. She did so like for her 'pets' or better noted as her friends to come and go to nest as they pleased. He could expect the same routine of her feeding the various birds gathered outside before coming to share her company with him for the morning hour.

J'onn wasn't so surprised when he came upon the revelation that he didn't quiet mind her company; she spoke little and could easily sit in the stillness comfortably with him, their empathic powers easily speaking volumes in their silence.

The moment they spent in lulled silence was somewhat golden, Medea preening her massive wings while the radio played old talk radio shows of mellow voiced detectives speaking in a Noir narrative. He actually enjoyed those detective stories, she must have known for she always had it on just in time for him to hear.

Upon hearing the door of the attic squeak softly as something small and lithe forced it farther open from its cracked position he turned his orange eyes to watch the feline silhouette of Teekl, saunter into the room.

The naked rafters above burst with life as the birds above head cawed and squawked from their perches sending down warnings upon the feline, daring her to come near their nest and young.

Oh she would heed their cautions this time around, for she could sink her teeth into any of them anytime she pleased. But the prize she sought was something else, something new, something green.

Medea was still out, out on her mission to get the ruby. She wouldn't, couldn't make it home in time to save her precious green prisoner. It was too simple of a hunt.

She eyed the doll house, spying the Martian within staring back at her, caution playing over his usually stoic features.

The game seemed more entertaining when the quarry knows it is being hunted. It's the way their hearts race with fear that made it so enjoyable. With little effort she jumped from the floor onto the table top just aside the little house. Teekl's face stretched back, her ears pressing flat on her head as a sharp hiss sprung from her throat. The Martian sprung forth from his place racing away from the large orange cat, running, racing away with his little cape flying behind him.

Moving behind the house knocking it to the ground in her actions, Teekl perused a catty smile upon her face.

The crows watched the scene from above, screeching and cawing down upon the intruding cat.

Moving to the side just in time J'onn dodged the cat's advances phasing through the surface of the desk onto the floor.

He was prepared to run, to escape once and for all when the ground shook just as Teekl jumped down, landing in his path of escape. She looked about briefly before her eyes focused upon the cornered alien.

If it was possible to see a cat grin, then surely Teekl had managed one that surpassed the smile of the Cheshire cat itself. Lowering her head, her green eyes narrowed upon him, she stalked nearer with slow intimidating steps, her small tongue peeking out to lick across her lip showing a glint of sharp teeth.

He was cornered; he would have to battle the large magical beast as best he could given his overall small size.

With a final roll of her shoulders Teekl pounced-

A hand elegantly long with abnormal bony fingers, unnaturally so compared to others', wrapped firmly around Teekl's neck snatching her from the air just as she was mere inches from attacking.

"I've told you before," Medea hissed beneath her breath drawing the cat upwards until they were leveled, looking each other directly in the eyes. "_Never_ come into my room or I'll help you lose some of those nine lives of yours."

Without another thought Medea heaved the cat out the open window uncaring how she managed to land on her feet, or how Teekl hissed upwards towards her window with malice before making her way back inside to her master.

Walking back into the house with a certain stride that spoke nothing of her embarrassing _dismissal_ Teekl silently thought against the woman in that attic. Oh she could care for her master all she liked but she would never be able to take her place. If she were in her more humanoid form Teekl would have grinned, she knew that with one slight miscalculation on the sorceress's part, one day she would push her so-called 'power' with Klarion too far and be turned into yet another delicious snack for her to play with and torture before taking her pleasures of consuming.

Maybe when that day came, when her little master became bored with the black winged bitch she'll take her time, crippling first one wing or an arm so that she may wobble about injured waiting for the moment death will call her. Then the next day she'll break the other and then her foot so that she could only hop about on one foot.

Yes, that's how she would do it; let her suffer hoping on one foot for a day or so before finally she would strike.

Yes and even then she'll make sure that woman would suffer. Clawing open her tiny chest and stomach, yes that would be far better than killing her quickly with a snap of her neck.

J'onn stared at the shattered segments of the broken doll house scattered on the floor before him, his poor pretty prison, his only source of sure shelter provided by his capture. Would she be cruel and leave him out to fend against her companions and the cat? She wouldn't; truly she wasn't as demented as the child she cared for was.

"Are you okay?" The soft spoken question drew J'onn from his thoughts to look up at Medea, still dressed in her criminal garb, in the colors of the very crows that inhabited her home. Her eyes looked towards him in a sidelong manner from her position at the window.

He nodded his head in the slightest of motions no one would have noticed had they not been watching for the movement.

"For the time being you'll just have to watch out for the crows until I can find somewhere else to keep you safe. I'd hate to put you in a cage but that is all I have left." She stated, not exactly towards the small green figure but rather to the air before her. Nonetheless J'onn nodded in understanding. "I'll also have to speak with Klarion about this later. Either he's being very lenient with his orders to that cat. Or I need to teach her to keep away from my things. Cats and birds." She sighed deeply stooping downwards to gather the broken pieces of the doll house. "Cats and birds."

* * *

John Steward stood at the door of the Watchtower's training room a towel draped over his shoulders reeking of the sweat he had gained from his strenuous exercise. The room boomed with the repeating sounds of something brutally crashing into a solid mass followed by the jingle of chains as they jolted with the force.

His eyes laid focused on the hawk winged woman clad in tight black sports wear harshly taking her frustrations out on the large punching bag nearly taking it off the ceiling with each blow.

Her bar-room brawl style of fighting seemed crude and far useless in actual battle, but the sheer power backing her blows made her opponents think otherwise.

She could just see that other woman's image in the place of the bag. It frustrated her how much they had gathered yet how little they knew.

Medea was merely the minion doing what that sniveling brat Klarion commanded. That was all there was to her, yet that wasn't all there was to it.

What more it angered her that it seemed impossible for her to plan a strategy against the woman who really show no desires of fighting them, just doing what her 'Master' wished.

How do you fight an enemy who doesn't present themselves as such? But merely the right hand of what truly was the enemy.

She didn't like the feeling of being left in the dark. No, it was something of a compulsive disorder developed by her training as a Thangarian soldier to know everything she needed to know, to banish the weakness that came with that element of surprise.

No, she didn't like that at all.

* * *

The morning hours went quickly by with the usual dull breakfast of sucking up to the child before escorting him to the living room to watch television, as was his duty. Theodore stood by the door ever ready to serve his new young master, watching as he sat before the television watching old Bugs Bunny cartoons and the few unbelievably violent Tom and Jerry cartoons Medea didn't really like for the boy to watch. But he was commanded by the master not his 'pet'.

And at the time his master wanted to sit before the television sipping some soda pop while his first pet, the humanoid Teekl playfully pounced on a stray black feather that had fallen from one of the crows.

There was something about the way the female feline snipped and batted the feather around that unsettled him. Perhaps it was the predatory gleam glowing in her eerie green eyes, perhaps it was the way she looked and grinned when she had the feather trapped beneath her claws, whatever the true reason he knew he was right in suspecting there was something more on the familiar's mind than just play.

Feeling his current presence in the living room was somewhat unneeded Theodore turned on his heel to make a steady retreat down the polished wooden hall, recently repaired soon after Batman's unsuccessful mission to retrieve his companions and bring his current master's plans to a halt.

As he made his way to the kitchen, baring the rustic country décor of some isolated area of the southern mountains he ignored the drawings and notes posted on the wall as his reminder, merely casting them a dissatisfied scowl as he plucked an apple from the pantry and steadily made his way out the back door.

Rolling the fruit over the cresses of his palm he wondered what exactly made him stay in the young witch's company. He would receive no special training, no real riches, or power for his provided services. So what forced him? Convinced him that it was here that he should remain?

When he thought about it he should have left the house when he had discovered the previous owner, the arrogant widow, was turn into a small rabbit and given to Teekl for her enjoyment. He remembered watching the cat stalk and tease the poor rabbit, forcing it into different corners of the room and injuring her gravely before losing interest in the demented game she played. It wasn't until a few days after that he had found a few tuffs of fur and blood leading a trail out into the yard where some of the birds stood gathered in a bunch.

As he stood watching the crows peck and squabble over what remained the realization dawned onto him that the same could be done to him if he chose to stay or not. But then even after witnessing the true extent of Klarion's power he wondered exactly why he stayed.

He paused some distance into what one would guess was the garden, or at least what once was a garden, baring no flowers except for various flowering weeds and discolored patches of grass varying from a sickly shade of green to faded brown, all surrounding the one thing that was well maintained outdoors, the brown stained gazebo.

Klarion.

Yes, Klarion was why he stayed. Because he was afraid of leaving him, afraid of what he might do. But at the same time only the deranged little witch boy and his 'pets' were the only ones who needed him for his real talents, those above mere housework duties.

Looking up with his one long eye Theodore observed the simple birdcage she usually used to keep her injured friends holding the shrunken Martian Man hunter within. He looked bored in his prison, swaying in the breeze for it hung from the hook at the archway, although his orange eyes were focused on the scene below him.

Moving past the archway he watched the figure dressed in simple navy sweat pants hugging her curving backside in an appealing fashion his view obstructed by a shift of her wings, moving slowly with the practiced grace of adjusting to her new weapon.

Those wings, he recalled receiving quiet the slap to the face when he had thoughtlessly stroked them and the dark rainbow of their feathers. A half hearted smirk tugged at the corners of his aging mouth as memory of her bottom lip jolting out in a pouting manner as she wrapped her arms about herself in a defensive manner muttering how they were 'sensitive'.

'So sensitive that the little brat could touch them whenever he felt like it?' He scowled to the wind.

"If you ever wish to sneak up on me I advise you keep your thoughts down." Medea spoke as she extended her arm straight; unwavering while twirling the end of a short black lacquered staff about ¾ the length of her arm.

How foolish he felt, once more he had let his emotional guard down about the resident empathic, "I wouldn't bother sneaking up. I have more honor than that." He countered quickly scaling the steps to stand behind her.

The action was quick, but anticipated. In a quick twirl of black rustling wings the sound of finely sharpened steel sliced through the air between them. She stood sideways with her legs twisted about from their planted position, the curving blade of the modified kusari-gama he himself had made years ago hovering a breath's way from his throat.

But he did not give any attention to the attentively crafted weapon aimed directly at its very maker, it did not sing for his blood, it had no thirst or blood lust just yet; in fact his eyes were focused on the dark brown depths encircled with a slowly fading ring of silver.

They were empty, almost soulless, when they gazed onto him, yet they were filled with fire for a fight and warmth for that boy. Oh how he hated the way those eyes looked at him.

"You've outdone yourself, I'll give you that much." She commented slowly withdrawing the blade and retracting it once more into the strong yet semi-hallow head of the staff. "Though it leaves me at a disadvantage given I'm use to the hand-sickle and chain."

"Think of it as nothing more than a short-staffed sickle and chain. That should ease your worry."

"Theodore, the last thing that I am is worried. I am merely off balance and do not wish for this to serve as a handicap in combat. I do so hate to rely solely on my magick."

The way she said it, it was almost like she was placing the blame of her weakness on him with that soft voice of hers. "You were taught to use all sorts of weapons without complication. It is your own fault for becoming so accustomed to one." He replied his tone just as smooth and cold as hers.

Her eyes showed no hint of the rush of anger surging through her veins, she had mastered the control of her features long ago, but he knew he had her by the way her wings bristled in a puffy sort of fashion. Without a word she turned her back towards him once more, the blade flying out to slice into an invisible opponent.

Theodore smirked victoriously at her back; she forgot she was not dealing with the child.

"I wouldn't be feeling so cocky if I were you." Medea's soft voice growled into the wind.

Correcting his error once more Theodore removed his dress shirt, "What more do you need to start this…this thing he wants?"

"Just the scepter and the emerald remains." She hissed compressing the handle of the staff and allowing a good six feet of thin but strong black cord to fall with the weight on the end. "The scepter I have found is part of a private collection of a Patience Magdalene." One flick of the wrist had the weight twirling quickly at her side, with ease she brought it above her head spinning the weight around and around with fatal force. "But we aren't concerned about that at the time being. It's the jewels I am more troubled about."

She had such an awful habit of showing disrespect to him at the slightest chance she could get. He mentally sighed, it couldn't be helped, she didn't have any proper training in etiquette not to mention the two of them did not start off well on their first meeting. But that did not mean he would tolerate her behavior.

Reaching out his hand he braced himself seconds before the weight collided into the curve of his palm. "How so?" He questioned yanking back on the cord, forcing her to look upon him for once.

"It's proving to be a bit difficult to find the emerald's exact location and I have tried nearly all of my location tricks. I wish to get it as soon as I can because they have to be cleansed and charged together at least an hour before. Any less and there might be…unwanted side-effects." She stated off-handedly with a deep sigh. "Why are you here?"

"One, to make sure you master that before the night you leave for that emerald. And two: you received a letter." His hand withdrew a simple letter from his back pants pocket.

"Well give it to me then leave me be." Medea hissed reaching out for her mail only to have it slip out of her grasp as the one-eyed man pulled the envelope away.

In turn Theodore smirked yanking the cord towards him so that her chest collided with his, "You use to enjoy sparring with me, Medea. I think you use to take such pleasure in me holding you down."

"Theodore," The harsh bite of the child's voice drew the tall man away from the black winged sorceress. "Would you like to keep the vision in your remaining eye?"

The offending hand grasping onto the cord suddenly found itself in the cool bony grasps of a claw-like hand. With a twirl, a jerk, and a quick uplifting shift of weight Theodore found his back cracking mercilessly against the floorboards of the gazebo.

"Please forgive Theodore, he forgot his place." Medea stated calmly straightening herself for her defensive stance while snatching the letter from the man's hand. "Is there anything you need, my master?"

"I would like some lunch now." Klarion stated his eyes never once leaving Theodore's stiff form even as he stood onto his feet.

Instantly the cold emotion in her face lifted with slight warmth and tenderness, "Alright, once I read my letter would you like some PB and J sandwiches?" She questioned gathering the cord of her kusari-gama into simple loops in her hand.

"Theodore will have to provide for me today. You have to find the emerald. Do you have any clue where it may be?"

"I know where to find it, my master." Medea said with a slight bow of her head.

Klarion was somewhat pleased with the information but not as much as he would have liked to be, "So what is the problem?"

"I can not pinpoint its exact location." She replied choosing her words carefully or risk upsetting him.

"Use your pendulum."

"I've tried. It seems the emerald's hiding place is far too complicated. I'll have to perform a seeking spell to find this one; it's a small risk but the only option we have left."

Without another word, save for a brief nod of approval Klarion departed to return to his cartoons with Theodore lagging behind him.

Taking a seat on the gazebo stairs Medea pulled a cigarette from the pack tucked securely into the waist of her sweat pants. Klarion had told her before that she should quit, but to whose health was it hazardous to?

Standing steadfast in his cage J'onn looked down upon the top of Medea's curly hair as she sat hunched over the letter. The feelings that rolled from her were one of saddened joy and warmth, the sort of warmth he recalled when his family was still alive.

An image of a man holding some resemblance to the woman flashed through his mind along with the attachment to her and more, something even the sorceress was not aware of stretching out like a line moving farther and farther until it stopped suddenly on the woman's book, the Morrum.

Shaking the indistinguishable thoughts from his mind he spoke, "You and your brother love each other very dearly."

Medea looked away from her letter to the cage above her head. "Yes, he always took care of me when we were children. Wolfie's the only one in my family who knows what is going on with me."

Reading the name on the envelop as Travis J'onn felt somewhat confused, this did not follow the usual human trait of nicknames, usually a name was derived in some fashion from the original name, shortening in some fashion to make a new one. "I am curious, why do you address him as 'Wolfie'?"

Folding the finished letter into half she tucked it into the side of her waist band. "One day when we were young my mother thought we both needed a personal symbol to call our own." She reached upwards carefully taking the cage from the hook before moving gracefully into the large house, "Travis, strong and independent yet loyal to his family, was given a wolf pendent."

"And why are you the angel?" He questioned also aware of Travis addressing her as Angel in the greeting of his letter.

"When I was little I was always taking care of injured birds, I always wanted wings of my own because of it. Once my mother brought me a pair of white wings meant for a Halloween costume. I wore it until all the plastic feathers fell off. That's when my family started calling me Angel. I had always dreamed of making enough money to buy some land and have a bird sanctuary dedicated to my grandmother. But life always throws something horrid your way."

He understood to some extent the sudden bitterness underlining her emotions, her life wasn't always dark, just merely tainted with the gift yet the curse of being the involuntary receiver of the emotions of others.

How many times did he have to suffer this same burden on this world? The human mind just seemed to broadcast more or rather he was more receptive to the human mind. They were merely less trained with the control of their thoughts and emotions, primitive in a sense but surely after a few hundred years they would be able to handle it just as he had.

Maybe it would take even less time than he thought given that evolution brought about a strong bloodline such as Medea's who with each birth brought about someone with one of those skills and then some.

But that was how it was with the rest of this confusing world; every once in awhile a human would produce a child who was empathic, telepathic, and so on, some never learning to control their 'gift' while some lose it.

It was of no wonder it would be viewed more as a curse for someone so untrained, so green to it all.

* * *

Arriving into her room Medea set the cage down upon her desk, nodding moments before J'onn pushed the door open and stepped out to stand in the open. He watched with stoic interest as Medea shooed the birds from the room and out the window.

"Since you're not a child or my pet I guess it wouldn't hurt to let you stay while I do this." Medea spoke softly closing the latch of the window then moving to lock the door.

She moved a large wooden chest from the foot of her bed to the center of the room angling it in a certain position until it suited her needs.

Sighing she opened the truck, obstructing his view of what its innards contained until she began removing candles, a small bowl, and a velvet pouch. It wasn't long before the alter was set.

Medea sat kneeled at the small alter of candles, joss sticks and small items consisting of some stones, flower peddles, feathers, an earthen bowl full of water, and the stolen gems. She whispered incoherent words into the air while laying a map print of some sort before the alter.

J'onn watched in utter fascination, for the few chances he had to actually watch someone perform their spells and magick never had he seen so much go into it.

She struck a match and lit one pure white candle, "Guiding flame, be my beckon and lead me on my safe return." Picking up one of the feathers she set the tip aflame with one of the other candles and brought the fire down onto the small plate of flowers sending it all up into a large blanket of smoke.

Taking a pen into her hand in a death-like grip she poised the map beneath the pen's point. Leaning forwards she took a deep breath of the smoke as she would her cigarettes and exhaled a long breathe of pure milky white miasma. As the breathe left her small body her dark eyes clouded over with creamy white instead of the usual shine of silver and her dark hair turned the color of fresh snow and straightened itself of its curls.

When the last wisp of smoke left her frame her body fell ungracefully backwards onto the floor with a low thud, the pen never leaving its position from above the map. Standing beside the bars of his cage a dreadful realization came upon him; there was no life in the body that lay before him unceremoniously on the hard wood floor of the attic.

One by one the candles flickered madly before their flames were doused the streams of smoke floating then slipping through the vents just as the cloud had done, all save for that one white candle.

The small clock mounted on the desk softly chimed the hour altering the air and the alien of the new hour. For nearly two hours Medea's seemingly lifeless body laid on the floor, unblinking eyes opened in an unseeing stare. She was seemingly lifeless for the simple fact her left hand moved briskly a top the map drawing out an ever changing line and from time to time jotting down small unreadable notes. But then the pen had ceased moving a half hour ago and the hand that once held it like a lifeline let it fall to the floor to roll unnoticed beneath the bed.

Before the clock could turn to the half hour the familiar cloud of white miasma fluttered into the room via the very rusted vent it had used to escape. Floating down to the still frame of the woman laid upon the floor with her wings hidden away, it touched down gently upon her lips with the grace of a butterfly.

It tickled across those slightly parted pale lips, as is teasing her with a chaste kiss a callow virgin might bestow upon a love.

Whatever the actions were meant to do it stirred a shallow breath from the practical corpse of the woman, drawing the thin vapors of the cloud slowly into her mouth and lungs. With each tiny breath she took of the mist the more the pigment in her skin regained and the deeper the inhalations grew.

All was going quite well until a mad gust of wind blew into the side of the house filling the air with the moaning protest of the wood and shutters as they resisted nature's force. The flame burning on the wick of the white candle flickered wildly when the chilled gale rushed through the vent before dieing unable to withstand its glow. All that remained of the fire that once glowed so brightly like a beckon of hope was the gray wisp of smoke swirling in the circulating air of the attic.

A sound akin to a backwards death rattle vibrated from her chest as fits seized her limp body. The cloud of life she had released wasn't completely returned to her, J'onn realized feeling hopeless as he watched Medea still a slight color of ashen gray slam her fist repeatedly into the floor as her legs kicked, and her head shook from side to side in an unbelievably quick pace all in a frenzied fit. All the while that horrible gasping sound would not cease.

Her banging motions knocked various items off the simple shelves of the bookcase, causing them to topple onto the floor in a mess of books, pictures, and her favorite music box. The music box's lid twisted from its hinges filling the air with that brilliant yet heart heavy song.

Someone tried to open the locked open, but the bolt was strong, very strong. It was not long before the chaos in the room was accompanied by the frantic banging on the door and two distinct voices crying out for the fitful woman.

"Medea!" Theodore's thick voice shouted above his loud pounding. "Medea, what's going on? Open this damn door this instant!"

"Medea! Theodore, get the door open." Klarion's muted voice spoke through the soil surface.

"I can't!" The door jolted as though a heavy force was rammed against it. "She has a fucking spell on it."

"Medea! Medea!" Klarion called again.

Standing in his place somewhat shocked into silence J'onn watched the scene unable to do anything to assist. He could try to light the candle again; yes he could do that…but how?

J'onn's eyes shot to the book to his side, that spell book he had seen cradled to Medea's chest like some treasure. Yes the book, it was connected to her somehow. Surely it could save her.

"You must be able to do something to save her." J'onn spoke aloud. To his great surprise he _felt_ a great urgency pulsate from the book, he felt emotions flowing from its bindings just as he did any other living creature.

Was it alive?

As if obeying his words the book's cover parted from the crème colored pages emitting an ethereal glow J'onn could not quiet explain, but given the current goings on it wasn't all that surprising.

The glow arched from the page's illuminated words taking on a distinct and transparent human form, a somewhat burly man dressed in ancient garb, perhaps from the middle ages, from what he knew of human histories. Dark eyes the color of wet dirt were set a little close together above his potato shaped nose, his squared shaped face ending with a strong chin graced with a close beard men of this era wasn't prone to sport.

He moved slowly towards the frantic woman trapped somewhere in the midst of her spell gone awry, his steps graceful, and his poise and over all air spoke of someone who thought highly of themselves and expected everyone else to see this as well.

A large hand waved about in the air above them drawing the remaining vapor that had seemed to dissipate into the white cloud it had once been. Kneeling down onto one knee aside Medea's shaking head his hand floated downwards to her open gasping mouth, leading the cloud of breath down directing it into her throat.

Like a swimmer gasping loud and madly having finally reached the surface after a deep dive Medea's eyes abruptly flashed from white to silver, her hair springing back into it's tight dark curls, with a loud inhale of air her back arched from the floor giving her full life once again.

The transparent man grinned at the sight of her, grinning as a father would upon seeing his newborn child placed safely in his arms to hold for the first time. Leaning downwards his lips pressed as best they could to her now flushed round cheeks, his arms slipped beneath her figure picking her up from the floor to rock her frame slowly in a light dancing-like sway.

"Morrum." She whispered running her hand down the breaded cheek in a kindly fashion. With a sigh and a weakened groan her hand feel uselessly to her side in utter fatigue.

At last the chaos stilled...it was over.

"Medea?" Theodore called.

Still breathing deeply Medea's head rolled slowly into the direction of the door. "I'm okay. I've found the emerald, master." If her voice wasn't soft before with her near winded it was possibly impossible to hear her.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Klarion's voice tainted with genuine worry questioned with equal softness through the door.

"Yes," She smiled wishing she was strong enough to move from her spot on the

"Never use that spell again, Medea." Klarion stated from the other side of the door. "Never."

All that echoed in her weary mind was her desire to promise him that she never would do it again. But alas she had spent all of her energy and sleep desperately called for her.

As the music box went on the man, Morrum as Medea called him, continued to dance around the room in small circles, moving in time with the hauntingly sweet melancholy tune resonating in the large room.

TBC…

* * *

Oh goodness, I'm giving J'onn a slight case of Stockholm Syndrome. Hehe, that's one of the great things about the mind, it's so fragile it's amazing that we all aren't out of minds. But then again who's to say that we aren't?

Sorry for the choppy ending for this chapter, but no matter how I tried I couldn't get it to come out any better. Suggestions welcomed!


	9. Chapter 9

Big A/N: Yeah, I'm so happy, oh yeah I'm so happy! Dances around shaking what my mama gave me Why am I happy? Well so much has happened lately, I'm moving, Tenchi Muyo the OVA has finally continued, and because DC has done something great! First they've released vol. 5 the final vol. of The Maxx (yes I'm a Maxx freak, sue me) and I get all misty each time I read it. And they're also releasing Seven Soldiers: Klarion the Witch Boy. A four maybe six part bi-monthly comic that I will have to join my Harley Quinn comic collection!

Oh and a note to Averroes. I thank you for your review and pointing all of that out to me and I had thought long on it before starting a rather long responds. But then as I began to reread what I had written to you I realized by answering I would be ruining everything for you (not to mention I forgot to save it before my computer froze) and the other readers. SO let me just sum it up to this: for what little I know I know what I'm doing.

Chapter 9

It was aggravating, turning over possibility after possibility only to end with the results of nothing but a minor headache. John hated it; it was like they were all drifting apart as they each tried to help as best they could with the current crisis. Flash was always at the computer looking, researching, and conversing with every magic user that they knew and had contact with. Shayera seemed the most distant eating her strange meals quickly and often times alone before heading back to the training room to take out her frustrations on the battered punching bag.

Walking through the dire looking halls, John Steward, dressed as the Green Lantern, wondered if either of his remaining teammates heard him when he announced his departure to the prison. He recalled The Flash raising his hand from the keyboard to acknowledge the fact that he had been spoken to before returning to his video conference with Zatanna, and Shayera did incline her head slightly during a brief pause from striving to gut the punching bag.

The loud clang of metal sliding and crashing into metal alerted him to his present company, the man he had came to see.

"A second visit?" Travis questioned looking into the hard green eyes of the hero as he took his appointed seat in the orange hard plastic chair.

Wasting no time Green Lantern leaned forwards against the table looking down onto the psychic prisoner in a show of intimidation, "I get the feeling that you know a hell of a lot more than you let on last time. So listen here, I want you to tell me everything and I mean everything that you know."

Not liking the man's harsh tone of voice and utter accusations thrown at him Travis found himself leaning forwards challenging the hero's body language, "Hey, I did tell you everything I knew, you ask the question I dealt the cards and answered them as best I could. You want straight answers go to my sister."

"What about your mother?" Green Lantern questioned crossing his arms across his chest. "She's in the city, maybe she can help us where you can't."

The rational sense of calmness that usually resided upon Travis' physique vanished into a harsh scowl as his innate nature to protect his family came into play, "Don't get our mom in this anymore than she is from the press!" He stated his voice low and warning, holding a frightening similarity to that of his sister's moments before she attacked. "Besides she can't help you, she doesn't even know what's going on with Angel. But if you're sick go on, she's the brewing type, she'll cure whatever ails you. We never had a sick day from school thanks to her." He chuckled darkly in the back of his throat, "Why don't you ask me for another tarot reading?"

"So if I ask you again, you'll give me another reading?" He questioned his voice heavily tainted with his utter disbelieve. "I don't see what good another one of your riddles will do us."

"It does if you ask the right question." Travis commented pulling out a small wooden box. Upon seeing Green Lantern's arched brow raised in question he smirked, "A new deck that Angel sent me. A belated birthday present."

The hard orange plastic chair scrapped loudly against the floor as Green Lantern took a seat before the so-called fortune teller. His question, what could he ask that would help them? What could he ask that wasn't asked before. He sighed deeply letting the first coherent question slip from his lips. "What is Medea's future with Klarion?"

"Page of Pentacles, this represents my sister." Travis stated picking the card from the deck and placing it face up on the table. Unlike before Travis's face became solemn as he somberly shuffled and dealt the cards spreading them out for him to see. "Queen of Swords. Two of Swords. Judgment. The tower. Death -Odd, I usually don't pick those two together twice for a person. And the Fool."

John frowned looking down at the blue and gold cards laid across the table in what looked to be a huge cross, he hated it that he could not see or understand what Travis was, it angered him that a small part inside of him felt that if he had the insight he would be able to see a clue that the foolish convict did not. "What does all of this mean?" He questioned striving not to lose his patients.

"In limens terms the queen represents a perceptive and sad woman. Two of swords, something's amiss, someone's lying, plotting, but the funny thing is the card itself keeps catching my attention." He said looking down upon the blind figure holding two crossed swords. "I don't know. The fortune I told you before ties in with my sister as well; it's funny, but I see you and your friends in her cards."

"Of course you do, we're the ones trying to stop her."

"No, not that, that's not what I see now. Some of the things I couldn't see before, I can see small glimpses of them." Travis frowned his eyes never moving from there place upon the cards.

"In the cards?" Green Lantern did nothing to hide the skepticism in his voice, he didn't believe him and he felt he was wasting his time, unfortunately he was their only lead. "How can you see that?"

"Hell I can stare at the damn wall and see something," Travis snapped feeding off the negative ambiance radiating from John's pores, "The cards are nothing but cards, they're merely my focal point and they help me keep everything I see in order. I only use them because people are used to seeing the Tarot as a sign of fortune telling, not some guy staring off into space."

For a moment neither man spoke, but merely sat in the silence of the small room staring hatefully at one another, one angered that the other's lack of cooperation deterred his mission to save his companions while the other was angered at him for desiring to cause harm to his sister.

The deep sigh filled the tense air between them as John ran his hand over his head, "So what can you tell us?"

Looking down upon the Two of Swords once again Travis spoke in an eerily calm voice, "I see her returning something she has taken. Pain, darkness, a moment of lost. She keeps by the side of a relative, a man but no one I know, he protects her. A calm before a storm, then ashes falling like snow from the clouds…and that's it." He mumbled pinching the bridge of his nose slowly shaking away the dizzying aftereffects.

Riddles! More useless riddles, he had no time to deal with such foolishness. He was about to voice his opinion when Flash's voice rung from the communicator, "GL, we've got a tip on Medea, she's heading out tonight to steal an emerald at a warehouse in Metropolis." Standing John nodded to the guard signaling that the interrogation/reading was over.

"Angel's not a bad person." Travis stated as he stood, "She's not."

"Humph, this man's a crock, he doesn't know a thing. He's just as real as those other psychics on TV." John grumbled to the guards.

"Really?" Travis questioned gathering the cards and shuffling the deck with his massive hand. "You don't believe I can see things that others don't know about hmm? Well then I guess this doesn't mean anything to you." He plucked four cards from the deck leaving them face up for him to see. "A knight of pentacles, this is you. And…a page of wands, a woman…with red hair. And the Lovers card." John froze in his retreat feeling rather than seeing the smug grin spread across Travis's face burning into his backside. "Are you sure I'm just some crock?"

Turning his face downwards in a frown hiding the surprise John scoffed before walking out of the room. Travis watched his black clad back disappear behind the door, Sighing he didn't bother to show him the fourth card hidden behind the Lovers. Three of Swords.

"Better that you don't believe me anyway."

The cooling season of autumn had brought about a significant change to the city, the once rich greens of the few trees that lined the side walks and city parks had given their remarkable display of bright fall colors. The colors of red, oranges, gold, yellow, and brown made the city seem set aflame, blazing in it's glory in the season that marked the time of dying almost like a desperate cling to be remembered to tell the world that their death was merely temporary for once spring had arrived the cycle would begin anew.

A late evening jogger ran at a steady pace down the grimy Metropolis city street, each breath of the cool crisp air he breath made his exerted lungs burn as hot met cold. It was a good time to jog, late when there weren't many people there to get in the way of his progress, and there was no fear, the .45 hidden in his sweats gave him a certain since of security that allowed him to jog bravely in the dark of the growing night.

Pausing for the moment to jog in place the middle-aged man with hair kept dark with excessive dyes pulled the cap of his water bottle to take a long leisurely chug in hopes of quenching his thirst.

As the cooling waters slid across his parched tongue the rustling of leaves brought his curious eyes open and towards the surrounding trees.

Birds, it looked as if a hundred black birds sat in every branch each and every one of them watching in with their beady little eyes. The sight wasn't abnormal, the city was home to perhaps millions of birds but regardless he felt highly uncomfortable under their unwavering gaze.

From the tree directly to his left a crow fluttered down to stand some feet away from his person. The crow cawed almost threateningly towards him, his black feathers puffing about his collar making him appear larger and far fiercer.

Moving quickly from the trees infiltrated with black bodies he could not withhold the fear in his heart.

"Damn birds." He uttered jogging a bit faster then before as if departed. A loud screeching caw ripped from the beak of one of the larger crows with the lame foot, seemingly to answer his curse with biting displeasure.

"Cagney." The wind seemed to whisper a soft chide.

Upon hearing the call of their mistress the crows took flight flying away from their rest towards the antiquated styled library built of sturdy bricks and stone columns, and crowed with a collection of gargoyles, each varying from heavenly to demonic.

It seemed normal until one of the gargoyle's flexed its wings with a great yawn, shuddering slightly before drawing back to rest against its backside.

Sitting on the shoulders of the stone statue, the black skirt riding up to reveal strong thighs, scarred knees, and a peek of the leotard beneath, Medea sighed inwardly mentally laughing at the antics of her friends. She could not blame them for doing as they had done; after all they had been sitting in wait for well over three hours.

Pushing the mirthful thoughts aside she returned to her vigil of staring down upon the doors of the warehouse building. Taking a slow drag of her cigarette she breathed out from her nose the swirl of smoke drifted upwards into the stagnant air heavy with fog.

Her eyes looked down upon the bottle of whiskey entrapped by her unnaturally long fingers. If Klarion knew that she was drinking before a mission he'd throw quite a fit.

The thought of liquor left a bitter taste in the back of her mouth, the memory of a suicide attempt…another _failed_ attempt always became fresh in her mind when liquor became involved.

If only she had the same control her grandmother did. She would have been able to handle it had she the same joy as she did with her 'talents'. Oh how she missed experiencing her grandmother's mirthful moods when she performed curses and charms for people (always at a price of course). She loved doing good just as she had enjoyed being mischievous.

Oh how her heart was broken when her grandmother died of natural causes.

"You're smiling." J'onn pointed out in his usual straightforward manner from his containment within the small cage.

Drawing herself out of her thoughts she had nearly forgotten that she had brought company along with her for this theft. "I'm thinking of someone that I lost."

Accepting her answer J'onn continued to stare out between the bars of his cage somewhat curious as to why she did nothing to ensure better security against his escape. But then there were a number of things about her he found contradicting.

She was, despite her ever changing manner, quiet compassionate rather than laced with apathy as her appearance may suggest. Her emotions changed drastically with the person she found herself around. J'onn recalled her hospitable mannerism when she kept him in her room, he remembered watching her instinctively pull Klarion into her arms whenever he crawled into bed with her in the dead of night, and even tuck the blankets about him when she departed before dawn. But when it came to the one eyed man he had heard called Theodore her attitude changed making her rather rude and blunt with him.

She did not do much to hide her thoughts from him, in fact if he dared to ask she answered him without hesitation, save when it came to what she was doing on the behalf of her beloved 'Master Klarion…bum bum bum the witch boy'.

She looked odd with the cigarette puckered between her lips and her wings spread out behind her in an involuntary stretch, like one of those angles he had seen paintings of.

In her boredom her body went lax allowing the bottle to slip from her long and narrow fingertips, falling atop the crown of the gargoyle shattering upon impact and splattering the pair with small droplets of the strong liquor.

Instead of cursing her absentmindedness and the course of her luck as J'onn had often seen humans do before Medea remained rather unresponsive throughout the incident, only acting when the last shard had fallen. She lifted a fragment of the broken bottle, her eyes impassive as the sharp edges nicked into her fingertips. She looked bored and trance-like even as she brought the shard to her forearm drawing it slowly over a present scar reopening the long healed wound. Her eyes focused intensely, or as intensely as her languid look could manage, upon the crimson liquid swelling from the incision.

J'onn watched her self-destructive actions taking note of everything. "Why are you doing this?"

"Sometimes it makes me feel better." She breathed softly letting the glass drop from her bleeding fingers.

"That is not what I was referring to."

"I know." She sighed taking one final puff of her cigarette before tossing the butt carelessly into the open air before them. "Given what I know and what I'm going to do what other choice do I have? I want to stop, but I owe so much to Klarion, I can't just quit." Looking at the warehouse doors she sighed somewhat relieved as the workers finally locked the doors and waved to one another in good partings.

Her vision shifted momentarily as she saw through the eyes of the black birds watching the going-ons about them intensely. No one on the outside, that was good.

"Then what will you do?" J'onn questioned once more bracing himself as she lifted the cage and attracted the ring to the belt on her waist.

"Perhaps," She breathed spreading her wings open preparing to leap into the air, "Sabotage myself."

Even though there really wasn't that many people out and about in that particular area of the city no one really would have noticed the large angelic silhouette gliding from one rooftop cutting gracefully through the still air to land with great ease near the moon roofs of the dark warehouse looming in the darkness.

Bending down on one knee, ignoring the slight sting as the small bits of fiberglass dug into the cresses of her skin she swiped the blade of her kusari-gama swiftly against the edge of the glass. Pushing onto the glass ever so carefully her sharp nails slid beneath the elevated edge lifting it away nearly soundlessly.

"Cagney, my love." She whispered softly holding out her arm for the crow to land. Cooing lovingly to the bird she ran the crooked of her finger along her soft neck. "What a lovely girl you are. Be my eyes, share your sight with me, and let me see what you see." She whispered her eyes turning the fascinating color of silver moments before she closed them eliminating the sudden double visions.

"In you go, love." She directed motioning towards the open window.

It did not take long for the large crow to make her flight in and out of the large storehouse to land once again at her mistress's side.

"Good everyone's gone, perhaps this one will be easier." She whispered to herself before slipping through the opened window and gliding down smoothly onto the floor.

Peering through his cage J'onn took notice that even with all of the statues, cars, and crates upon crates of perfectly stored 'relics' the facility looked amazingly spacious and somewhat bigger than what the outer appearances made it seem. It was of no surprise that she couldn't find the exact location of the emerald she was seeking.

The sharp tips of her taloned boots clicked against the hard cement floors as she moved with the confidence of a woman who knew where she was heading. Her eyes scanned across a cluster of suits of armor, ancient weapons neatly mounted or packaged away securely. She thought nothing of a large sword held in the iron mitts of a suit until the very tip of her wing brushed against the blade, the very tip falling severed in half and shedding of its bristles.

Whoever owned those items was quiet the weapons collector. Her eyes focused on the pointed blade, a fall on that thing would prove quiet painful if not fatal. Had anyone been watching they would have thought her indifferent to the simple primitive weapon, but the thought of the thing piercing into her heart as it must have done in its time disturbed her enough to cause her wings to quiver.

Moving though the maze of antiques and other valued possessions oh so carefully stored away they came upon a small crate sitting on one of the many shelves stored within the building.

A dark smile tugged at the corners of her dark painted lips before she moved with speed and grace drawing the kusari-gama and cutting away the lid of the crate revealing within it a small steel box.

Opening the box her eyes focused on her prize, a simple green uncut emerald that winked under the dim lights of the storehouse. "An emerald horded in storage under a pseudo name for Lex Luthur himself; I guess he mistook it for something more valuable to him." She sighed turning the emerald about in her fingers. Discipline

J'onn silently winced at her presumption. Indeed if it were true than Luthur must have believed that he had himself a fine bit of kryptonite rather than a useless gem. If they were fortunate then Klarion would never know of this or take interest in truly killing the man of steel the world so loves.

Just as she prepared to pocket the gem and turn about to depart the jewel was plucked from her fingers, incased in a transparent green orb before shooting away from her grasp. Silver encircled eyes ablaze with anger she whipped around to see the three heroes she would have rather like to avoid.

Flash, Green Lantern, and Hawk Girl stared back at the little robber, their bodies poised and ready to take on the defense.

"I don't know how it is that you found me but do know that I am busy and don't have the time to play with the likes of you. So please give me that emerald, or else I'll have to take it." Medea hissed moving forwards a few steps before softly drawing her blade upwards into the offensive.

"I'd like to see you try."

How one who seems so listless suddenly flare to life as if a fire burned in her belly was a mystery, but that same flame seems to spark to life in all of them as they readied for combat. The kusari-gama's blade slashed mercilessly towards Green Lantern while the weight of the end flew a few feet outwards towards Flash.

Standing back, ready for any surprise attacks Hawk Girl frowned upon the situation. She half wondered if the others took in the knowledge that the close proximity of the storage shelves make any sort of combat difficult in the narrow aisle in which they were. Taking a quick look upwards she noticed just how high the shelves and stacked crates reached, flight would be impossible until they got at least twenty feet off the ground. No one would be able gain any true advantage here.

Throughout the beginnings of their fight Medea's focus was aimed at the one holding the object of her desires; this was not missed by Flash who quickly took on the job of acting decoy to the magic woman's deadly rage by grabbing her by her wrist from behind.

"Now what have I told you about playing with sharp objects?" He questioned smiling down at her in the cocky manner that was purely the Flash.

With a cry Medea spun around slashing her kusari-gama at the dodging Flash striving to at least nick the smug speedster stepping from side to side before her eyes.

His quick movements and her wasted energy was becoming irksome, growling low in her throat a silver ring encircled her eyes as the power within her swelled, "Be still you insect!" With a swing the glowing kusari-gama came down upon the ground infecting it with its radiance.

Looking downwards Flash's eyes grew wide with surprise, although he didn't know much about magick he knew that he didn't want whatever it was the sorceress dispelled cast upon him. Turning he ran from the mysterious light chasing after him; but regardless of how quickly Flash ran and dodged it stayed at his speeding heels.

Left to right, to right to left to right to right to left again it followed. Like an attacking dog it sprung upon him encasing his body in its eerie glow, the spell seeping into his skin taking effect. He felt slow and heavy, as if he had been heavily drugged with some sort of sedative.

"What did you-" His words were cut short as the weight of the kusari tangled around his arm a strained grunt from behind him was his only warning as Medea tugged and with a spin swung him into the nearest crate.

Giving her no time to regain herself after the mighty swing Green Lantern and Hawk Girl silently acknowledged one another before moving into the offense, rushing in together with a battle cry Hawk Girl attacked first bringing her mace in from above while Green Lantern moved in for the attack aiming for her side.

Medea's eyes narrowed down upon the pair as she acted on instinct bringing the staff of her kusari-gama up to deflect the intended blow of the mace while simultaneously bringing up her leg to kick the sharp talons of her boot across his abdomen.

But her actions did little for with a heavy push she had managed only to get a little distances between Hawk Girl and herself but not from Green Lantern, who quickly recovered from her assault grabbing her by her wrists in hopes of disarming her. The struggle was brief for with a simple swing he shoved her backwards wrenching the shaft from her grasp. She winced as her back collided with the crate the pain combined with the metal edges of the cage at her side scraping roughly into her thigh; but dared not dwell long on the pain for she had found her escape from the claustrophobic maze, turning she kicked her leg backwards knocking the advancing Hawk Girl away and into Green Lantern before briskly climbing upwards.

Climbing onto the very top of the leveled shelves everyone quickly took in her mistake, although she was higher up and away from the confining aisles she was now in the open, if she tried to escape by air Green Lantern would be able to shoot her down before she could get a foot into the air.

They knew it, and she knew it leaving them to stand still staring upon one another silently questioning the other, wondering what would happen next. It was like a game of chess, one move was all it took for the game to end and it could be in either side's favor.

The metal shelf top screeched when the steel tips of Medea's boots scraped against its surface as she moved to bolt.

Jumping to action Hawk Girl began to climb the shelves shouting behind her to Green Lantern and the recovered Flash, "Keep on her!"

Within moments the sorceress found herself fleeing along the narrow ledges made of storage shelves below her the decelerated Flash and Green Lantern followed after by foot while behind her Hawk Girl gave chase by wing.

The sound of the massive flapping wings behind her hinted her to the attack prompting her to leap across the not so substantial space to the neighboring shelf feeling the rush of air at her side where the mace had been meant to land.

Though she had missed Hawk Girl's advance she was not so fortunate when it came to the green shot that landed in her side singeing both clothe and flesh while sending her to tumble for balance against a large statue crated for save transportation.

"Give up now." Hawk Girl commanded landing on the shelf across from the hissing Medea. "Your chances of escape are minimum so you're only making this harder on yourself."

Smirking Medea stood to take a long leisurely look upon the masked redhead. "You impress me more and more. I'm still in no mood to fight you, and spectacularly enough I can't perform a simple parlor trick to get you off my back. So I'm trapped in between my desires and my duty." Moving with incredible speed the weight of her kusari-gama shot from its place in the hilt slamming into Hawk Girl's chest knocking the wind from her lungs.

A streak of green flew by nearly catching her in her shoulder, Green Lantern and the Flash; though they weren't leveled with her they still posed quiet a threat. What she was about to do was low, but by the time she would have managed to escape Green Lantern's ring Hawk Girl would be up and after her once more, she had no choice but to use her trump card.

Growling she held the cage up before her body at arm's length so that Green Lantern, standing below them with ring aimed at her and all the rest could see the miniature Martian within. "Do it and you'll be hurting your friend as well." She panted softly between breathes. "Now lower your weapons and you toss the emerald up here." She commanded watching quiet pleased as they did as she commanded first with Hawk Girl lowering her mace and Green Lantern putting down his hand along with the tossing the gem up onto the shelf to tumble some feet away from her feet.

"Good, very good. Here's your little friend back." With that said she hurled the cage far away from the group uncaring where it landed.

The trio's eyes turned to follow the soaring cage and the panicked alien trapped within. It seemed as if everything slowed down, with the heroes distracted Medea made a lunge for the emerald while Flash and Hawk Girl moved to catch the Manhunter.

"She's going for the gem! Stop her!"

Green Lantern wasn't sure who had shouted all he knew was that suddenly he was acting on impulse firing his ring at the black winged woman.

The shot landed in her back just as she stood to turn with the emerald in hand. The cry that ripped from her lips was loud and inhuman, her fingers releasing the gem as her body flew with the impact from the shelf's ledge to fall towards the ground had there not been the line of armor standing at attention with weapons drawn. Nothing she could do to stop her from falling towards them, nothing could stop her stunned body from descending towards the sharp sword that had made her shiver with fear.

Hawk Girl had sighed with relief when Flash caught Jonn's cage with a sudden burst of his unnatural speed just as a small surprised chirp echoed through the storage house, the sound escaping her lips barely seconds after the sharp steel of the sword tore through her left shoulder piercing through and out to the other side lower towards her spine.

The armor gave way under the dead weight of the impaled woman clattering to the floor with a loud cacophony that seemed to resonate continuously into the still air, making the unbelievable knowledge of what had just happen to repeat in their heads.

No one could do much but stand still and stare in stunned stupor the angelic woman lying among the scattered armor and her own blood with the sword stabbing her through.

"Her magic has receded." J'onn's voice stated as he approached the group out of his cage and back to his original size.

Flash frowned deeply, "Does this mean she's-?" He found he really couldn't finish the sentence, though there was no need. The still body, the pooling puddle of blood, and her vacant eyes there was no doubt about it.

She had to be dead.

TBC...


	10. Chapter 10

A/N: I wonder if anyone is reading this anymore. In any case I've decided to finish this out of all of my other fics first because I'm more inspired to do it. All of the others will be put on hold due to the fact that I have stupidly over loaded myself with fics and other projects. So after talking with Shadowhawk we came to a solution. I'll work on two fics at a time, this and my original on Fictionpress. -LB

Also please forgive any mistakes that I may make, stupid plot holes, or OOC. Because all in all I really don't care anymore.

Chapter 10

Somewhere a frightful looking child clenched his small hands in anger. Somewhere a large murder of crows took flight squawking wildly into the night air. Somewhere in a prison cell a man cries out the name of his sister in pain.

Silence, pure unadulterated quiet that screamed in their ears; it was as if it had some how been embodied and the silence had wrapped its fingers about their necks choking them, slowly struggling to suffocate the heroes trapped in a state of disbelieving stupor.

The drab colored walls, a horrid shade of gray in the dark cast with odd twisted shadows, lowly resonated harsh labored breathes as the surreal air hovered about them, caressing, embracing, and swallowing them whole. Standing about the figure laying on her side in a growing pool of fresh dark red blood, the metallic moist stench invading their noses filling their heads and making them somewhat dizzy, they looked onto one another, a look of question marring their faces and lacing their minds with a subtle hint of panic. Medea S. Azure, the mistress of crows, the minion of Klarion and the very sorceress who had captured and still held their fellow comrades, was dead. Dead, she was dead by a simple mistake, a slip up of all things.

"Umm guys how do we explain this?" Flash asked staring downwards at the sleek silver blade of the bloodied sword pierced through Medea's chest in such a manner that she looked like some slain mythical beast.

The four heroes looked towards one another silently dreading the future they knew was coming once the police stepped through those doors. Yes she was dangerous but she wasn't murderous she didn't put the people into a panic like some of the better known and destructive villains had, the media would have a field day with the news that they had killed the woman, even if it was accidental (even then they'd eat it up). The media ached for such a fuel to feed their soulless fires, not to mention the politicians, protesters, and the people would question their capabilities, they would question their intentions, their merit and their morals even more so than they have been doing before. No amount of past good deeds done would make up for one simple mistake.

They would be branded killers for the accidental death of the magic welding thief. They would become the people's enemies.

"We can only do what we can by telling them the truth. It was an accident." Green Lantern stated looking down about the body as if saying it would help to reassure the dreadful fact.

The sight was disturbing to Hawk Girl, almost like looking at a disturbed reflection, seeing how simply the woman had been killed left her to admit to her own mortality and even more so admit to the fact that it could have easily been her. "We have to take the sword out." She stated kneeling down to the corpse's side. "Flash, you'll have to do it, you're quicker." She commented pulling the black winged woman up into a sitting position.

"What? Uh-uh, there's no way-"

"Flash!" Everyone shouted at once.

The action was nearly undetectable when the red speedster took hold of the sword's hilt and jerked the blade out before dropping it just as quickly to clatter loudly on the ground as if it had burned him.

The sword was out, but that still left them at a stand still, left them in a sense of shock. They had to call for the coroner, but then how would they get to Klarion? How would they save Batman, Superman, and Wonder Woman, if the author of their curse was now at their feet dead?

* * *

Dark, it was dark and still in a familiar way, a way she remembered well. Death, she was at the very jaws of death and had yet to be swallowed. It was warm and coaxing like a warm bed promising sleep to a weary soul. And oh was her soul weary, she wanted nothing more than to let the seductive embrace of death take her away from her life that, for as long as she could remember, wasn't always kind. Something in her chest jerked but she didn't care, she knew if she kept still just long enough she would finally find peace.

She had to…

_Wake up._

'No. I don't want to.'

_Must wake up._

'No, just let me go to sleep. Let it end.'

_I can't._

'Why can't I? Why not let it end?'

_I promised Klarion. _

'Klarion…Morrum…Morrum I can't feel you. I can't feel anything. Why do I feel so weak? Morrum…Grandfather…Morrum…daddy, daddy Morrum.'

"Daddy." The group jumped with surprise at the weak child-like plea.

"Dead, she should be dead. At least I think she should be; I thought she was." Flash murmured frantically as they all stared at the woman slowly regaining her consciousness.

J'onn's eyes narrowed slightly as he watched the dead glaze in her eyes lifting, he had seen it before on that night her spell turned against her, her life's blood was flowing through her again after her brief moment of death.

It was then that grim realization dawned upon him…she couldn't be killed by ordinary means. If she proved to be a very dangerous foe instead of the mere caretaker she was…he almost didn't want to think about it.

Upon completely waking onto the world once more Medea did not pay any mind onto the four heroes standing about her, their bodies ridged and ready for any other surprises (though after witnessing someone return from a state of death nothing was all that surprising). No, they did not matter so much as her pain. Liquid mercury eyes ablaze with the great magik narrowed in agony as her narrow reedy fingers stiffly and shakily lifted upwards to the bloody hole as if unbelieving of the fact she had a fatal wound gapping in her chest, the once beautiful black top torn asunder revealing a great deal of her non too gifted blood covered bosom.

A trembling breath drew within her lips making the heroes jump to attention only to wince when the breath was released in a growing inhuman screech that might have shattered glass had it been an octave higher. The glass windows about and above them pushed in moments before they exploded the large shards of glass raining down in upon them.

Letting close a gasp of surprise Green Lantern held his hand up above his head creating a shield above them protecting them from the deadly raining shards.

The cry waned to a sad whimper, a sharp echo giving note of the great sound that had once been reaped from her throat, as the deadly raining bits of glass trickled to a halt as they shattered into oblivion leaving them to stand in wonder.

"Be on guard." Hawk Girl commanded holding her mace before her while her green eyes scanned the now open air above them.

"What?"

"That wasn't a cry of pain. That was a call for help." She answered eyeing the first dark bird as it made its way over the roof's edge.

"What's one little bird going to do?" Flash questioned, "Caw at us to death?"

No one had a chance to reprimand him for no sooner had the cocky words slipped from his lips did the large black cloud of black bodies fly in to join the fray. It looked like a thousand of them if not more where flying above their heads in a huge figure eight, the crows' large screeching caws filling the air in an chaotic dissonance.

Flash frowned, dodging with the others when one would make a mad dive towards them, actually believing in some form or fashion that they could really do something to make a difference or really do some harm. "Okay, still what can they really do?"

Half bent with their arms drawn upwards to protect themselves from the attacking murder they spied a large descending figure fall from the moving frenzy of black, landing on the cold hard floor with a loud echoing boom. Large inky black wings unfurled revealing, as it stood to a height of six feet, a humanoid yet monstrous crow-creature.

"I would really like it when you learn to stop when you're ahead." Green Lantern grumbled to Flash as they looked the new threat up and down in cautious awe.

The crow creature stood defensively before the conscious-failing woman, pale black gray flesh with black feather covered mounds on its chest that gave away the crow's gender rose and fell heavily, willowy yet muscular arms tensed as clawed hands clutched and unclenched at her femininely curvy side. Its head that completely of a crow's looked hatefully towards them, if it was at all possible for a crow to express any sort of emotions on its face.

Bending it gathered the gasping woman into its gray arms with a sort of gentleness no one would believe the creature capable of, its silver beady eyes never leaving the four heroes as they were kept at bay by the ever charging wave of crows.

It parted its large sharp break released a loud screech the sound like metal scrapping into metal. The noise was like blood to sharks, the once simple cloud of crows cawed louder as they no longer flew together in the tight eight but flew downwards in a chaotic fury some moving towards their mistress while the rest attacked the four spectators cawing, scratching, and pecking them with a enraged and somewhat insane resolve.

"They're going to get away, stop them!" Hawk Girl cried out swinging her mace while moving towards the separate curtain of crows carelessly knocking their winged attackers away.

At her words the attack and the symphony of screeching caws stopped, it was as if time itself had stilled, but the soft beating of the many wings told otherwise.

As if being sucked into a vacuum in space the massive murder spiraled up and out of the broken moon roofs dissipating into the air revealing that they harbored no injured woman leaving the heroes unsure of exactly what had passed but knew deep in the recesses of their minds that it was far from the end of their encounter with Klarion and his minions.

* * *

The return to the Watchtower was a bittersweet homecoming, graced with small yet stinging scratches the four gathered together in the infirmary to tend to their minor wounds to ward away possible infections.

They wanted to feel elated at the notion that not only had they stopped the robbery but they had managed to take the desired emerald and even better they had their Man Hunter returned onto him.

But the joy was continuously buried by the depressing thoughts that J'onn was only one while three others were still unaccounted for. The image of the woman they had thought dead still flashed through their troubled minds reminding them of the act they had committed, no matter who they were or how bad they were they knew that life was sacred, if the woman had not been as she was they would have committed homicide. But what more they still knew naught what they were fighting to prevent.

The stifling silence lingering about the small group of heroes was tense, all of them wondering, waiting. It didn't take long before the silence was broken as Flash stood to look to their newly returned teammate, "J'onn, why didn't you contact us? I know you didn't have your communicator but you're the greatest psychic, the most powerful one we've met! Why didn't you make contact with us?" He demanded waving his hands about to emphasize the emotions backing his words.

"I did as I did so that I could gain a better perspective of our adversaries and perhaps learn what it is that they plan to do without them becoming aware of my attentions. And I must mention that though my abilities are great even I am not immune to magic."

At his solemn voiced confession the three stared in stunned amazement at the Martian, "Well what did you find out? Do you know what they are up to? What about their location? Do you remember where they were? And are the others alright?"

"To some extent. Again her magic prevented me from knowing or keeping track of the exact location but it is somewhere within Metropolis's city limit. And from what I have heard and what I have received Klarion wishes to open some sort of gate."

"A gate?" Green Lantern echoed looking just as confused as his comrades.

"Yes, a gate that leads onto different realms so that he may unleash the inhabitants onto the world." J'onn answered.

"But why? From what we've heard about this kid this really isn't his sort of thing." Flash interjected.

Shayera frowned, "No, but it will cause the sort of chaos he likes. Think about it, if he's after Etrigan again surely he'll come out to face Klarion or Klarion will take his forces to him. But the real question is can we stop them?"

"We could call for Zantanna." Flash suggested leaning back somewhat in his seat. "I mean wouldn't it be useful to pit one magic user against the other? And she's our greatest ally in that field, look how useful she's been so far."

Shayera shook her head from side to side, "It wouldn't work. I've been around her before; she says that her magic is waned whenever she's around me for some reason. It would be a waste if she's weakened before we could get to Klarion."

Green Lantern dug into his pocket removing the emerald, "Well we do know that for now they won't be able to do anything until they get their hands on this."

"Or until they find another one to replace it." Shayera mumbled as she bridged her fingers together and rested her chin upon them. "But then again Medea's injured, she might be out of the picture."

"No, with such magic on their side it will not take her too long to recuperate. But it would be wise to gather the last item Klarion seeks before then, a particular scepter." J'onn spoke his orange eyes looking upon the agreeing faces of his comrades. "Without it Klarion can not open this gate as he wishes, perhaps then he will tire of this and return the others to normal."

"I doubt it," Green Lantern stated standing onto his feet, "But it is worth a try. Do you know where it is?"

A simple nod was his only answer.

* * *

Although he had come into the human world from the otherworld dimension to learn all he could about witchcraft rather than suffer the strict direction of the adults who had the nerve to tell him what he could and could not learn or do with his vast powers and incredible talents he found the 'normal' side very entertaining. They had cartoons, videogames, ice cream, and the people were easy to mess with given their strange line of morals and steadfast faith.

In this world not everyone was a little knowledgeable about magic, and it was very rare to come across someone who had a fraction of his basic knowledge, it was a miracle when he did come across a decent magik wielder.

But soon he would really have his fun, with just two more items to get he would wreak havoc on all mankind until he grew bored and decided to do something else.

The room of the den was dark, just as he liked it, the only light permitted was the big screen television as it flashed casting shadows about the room, the eerie glows reflecting in sickly colors over the boy's pale alabaster skin.

He was up past his so-called 'bedtime'; it wasn't as if Theodore was going to enforce the curfew Medea set for him. The one eyed man was too much of a coward…he was no fun. Even Teekl showed a sense of boredom towards him. He liked it when someone would carelessly push his limits; he loved waiting and watching trying to figure out just how long he could stand them before he decided to get rid of them with some sort of spell, though which one exactly he wasn't so sure of until that moment, it was always what suited his mood.

And from the feel of things he knew his mood was about to be tested.

There was a loud clamor from the large attic upstairs; Medea was brave enough to come back. Without even bothering to speak Theodore walked off to see to retrieving the newly arrived woman.

Medea's battered body landed in a useless heap at the small boy's feet once Theodore took away his support with a cold sense of carelessness. "You failed." Klarion stated moving from his seat to stand before her.

Keeping one hand balled over shreds of what once was the skirt of her costume over the bloody hole she used the other to push herself up to sit on her weak knees. "It's only a minor set back. I can and will have both the emerald and the scepter to you before the next waning of the moon. I swear, I'll have it in time." She promised her pained voice wheezing with a fiery determination that usually blazed in her soul when she was in the heat of battle.

Klarion's black eyes narrowed down upon her crippled form, her promises doing nothing in the least bit to sooth his disappointment and childish anger. He looked into her eyes, those mesmerizing eyes, eyes that told every single emotion that trickled through her. Eyes that pleaded with him, eyes that comforted him, eyes that he loved to see smiling down upon him.

He didn't want to see her eyes anymore…or rather-

Sitting on the floor she stared in disbelief as she felt the air about her charge with a sort of electric energy she always felt when even Klarion performed his magik, no not electric, more like the cold moist feeling of morning fog on the skin. His black eyes, the eyes that seemed to look right through to the soul, were voids as his cold face turned frightfully chilling before her eyes. His hair flared as if carried by an invisible wind just moments before something sprung from his form, a dark shadow baring the frightening semblance of a horrific demon. It hissed as it grinned rushing towards her its small dark hands outstretched and grasping in the air like some greedy child. She had no time to scream, there was no use in dodging. His spell flew through her, hitting her like a gust of wind washing over her in only a second before stopping.

Her eyes stun, as if specks of sand had been blown into them forcing her to rub away the pain before opening them…to darkness.

"No."

Eyes that once shinned silver clouded over with the murkiest shades of ashen gray. They gazed unseeing before her staring blankly into a void unaware that cold black eyes stared directly into them.

Her breath quaked with fear as she unsurely moved her hands before her.

The Two of Swords. The blind man.

TBC


	11. Chapter 11

AN: Okay this is something I never do or complain about but this is must be said. We authors thrive on reviews. The good, the bad, the constructive criticism, as for the flames some of us laugh at them, some of us shot them down, and some of us let it get to us to the point we quit, but none the less we need them.

A fellow author and I were both very disappointed to see that after we had posted our stories none of us received any reviews but we had lots of hits days and even weeks after posting. Yes I am aware that I should not use the hit counter in such a way, I know anyone could have come upon my story by accident and even that chapter, but that doesn't mean that all of the hits received were in fact accidental.

Now I'm not one of those authors who will hold a chapter hostage until a certain number of reviews are met; that's just wrong, immature and shows just how self-conscious a person is in my opinion, but still please review, all kinds are welcome.

My thanks go out to oneredneckgoddess currently my only reviewer for the previous chapter.

For those of you who just skip the Author's note and skimmed down here you are…

Chapter 11

Black eyes watched the bloody procedure uncomfortably as the one eyed man's steady fingers pushed the thin needle and wire in and out of the skin surrounding the three inch long hole that wasn't meant to be there. Though if one was to peek into the small guest room, bare of any signs of comfort and welcoming to any sort of guest they would have seen a boy stroking the back of the orange and black cat cradled into his arms as he watched the man clean and stitch the unconscious woman's wounds, yet none would be able to see the well hidden the unease in the little witch boy's face.

Klarion knew what Theodore was thinking as he obediently did as he was bade, he thought he was taking a sick sort of satisfaction in watching him patch up the sorceress. He thought that he was a sadistic evil little child as everyone else did. But he was wrong. Klarion wanted nothing more than to leave the small room heavy with the scent of blood and antiseptic, leave the sight of her lying so helplessly on that bed, but he couldn't, the second Theodore cut her top apart he waas even more so convinced to stay.

"Is it necessary to have her topless?" He asked watching as Theodore dabbed the already red soaked sponged against her skin soaking up yet more blood before continuing with his job.

"Yes. It's in the way not to mention the dirt on it might cause an infection." Theodore replied dryly taking meticulous care in his work.

Klarion wasn't really sure why but he didn't like it at all, he didn't like the fact that Theodore was seeing her exposed in such a manner, or the idea that anyone ever would though he had seen her as such and more in short passing glances.

'No,' her lips had quivered as the word came shakily from her. 'No. No! No!' Her feet scrapped against the floors, carelessly scratching the polished surface as she had struggled to move back, back away from how she last saw things, _away_ from Klarion. Her cries had grown, torn among the hysteria of fear, the blunt brutality of willfulness, and determination to fight back anything that dared to come near her in her weakened state.

Her punishments were rare but they were harsh regardless. And this time his punishment onto her was a temporary loss of her precious sight.

She had panted slightly with the lingering stings of her puncture wounds, each breathe hitching with a pained gasp. The sound mixed with the waves of hysteria swelling and dieing within her heart upon being cast in such darkness. For nearly a half hour she stayed on the floor, growling and clawing at anything she thought was approaching before blood loss and exhaustion pulled her into a state of deep sleep.

Frowning he approached her slowly, observing the bleeding hole gaping in her shoulder.

'Theodore, take care of that.' He had commanded disturbed at the fact that seeing her blood made him ill.

The job was done, the lesions were closed and her skin carefully dabbed and rubbed with alcohol before Theodore gathered his supplies and left the room without a word leaving Klarion to continue his staring. The man didn't care; the boy could do whatever he wanted as long as it didn't have anything to do with him. The girl was a quick healer she'd be up and about before the morning; that much Theodore was sure of…that was if Klarion and the cat didn't kill her first.

He was upset, that was understandable enough; or rather people should be more understanding of the fact that he was upset with her failure and the Justice League's blatant interference. He was hoping that the final gem, the emerald, would be placed among the others tonight. But no, his hopes were met with disappointing let down.

Klarion nearly jumped in surprise when he felt the tips of his fingers trace along the rough filament that had been sewed into Medea's. His eyes followed the trail his small alabaster fingers made as they slowly, almost curiously, ran over her dark and dirtied skin, almost amazed at the strong contrast.

It felt weird, almost like a hard scab, but it wasn't. He could feel the difference; he knew how her skin should feel in that spot, he had touched her enough to know, watched her pamper herself enough to know every scar. Absentmindedly his fingers moved outwards and away as he began to finger the smooth skin encircling the horrible black stitches marring and tarnishing her skin. Often times when he had the slightest of scratches he would always make it known onto her so that she would 'kiss his pain away'. Even when there was no pain he found himself going to her, watching intently as she paused whatever it was that she was doing to scrutinize his injury before lowering herself down to his level to place a soft and tender kiss, sending a pleasant jolting sensation through him that made any and all pains fade away if only for a moment.

For some reason he wanted to do the same for her.

There came a soft cooing like moan from her throat as she stirred at his touch. Jerking his hand back as if he had been burned he watched as her eyes now the milky color of film fluttered open, looking blindly about the room in hopeless futility.

Had she been anyone else he would have turned his back on her and allowed Teekl her fun. Had she been anyone else he would have taken pleasure in teasing and tormenting her in her vulnerable state. Had she been anyone else he wouldn't feel so penitent. But she wasn't anyone else he knew it, and so did she, or else she wouldn't have gotten away with the way she handled him sometimes.

He watched as her face, usually cast in a world weary impassive gaze about others though full of life warmth, loving, and care when in his presences, change slightly in a variety of emotions, first confusion, followed by a small flash of panic as it took only a few moments for her to remember the events that lead up to her blind state, her face melting into that of a sort of calmness that was most unnatural among the humans that he had crossed paths with.

Medea sat up slowly from the blood stained sheets and brought her narrow fingers up to her chest feeling the new stitches before repeating the same for the stitched exit wound on her back wincing slightly with each light touch.

Klarion shifted his weight slightly making the old floorboards screech softly signaling that he was there.

"Theodore does a good job for a simple _butler_." She said in a low mocking tone towards the title of the man while acknowledging the boy's presents.

He didn't know what to say, he didn't know if he wanted to be angry with her or happy that she was okay. He didn't like these conflicting feelings at all, looking at her naked chest stained with her own dry blood save for the patches cleaned with alcohol he settled for something else, "Clean yourself up, you're getting blood all over things." He commanded turning his back to her.

Standing up she moved her hands before her feeling the empty air before her as she carefully made her way towards where she last heard his voice. "Yes, Master Klarion." She said in that soft sweet tone he adored.

Klarion paused as he heard her slowly take a tentative step towards his voice her hands held out before her moving through the air in a sort of lost manner. Had she been anyone else…he wouldn't have taken her by her hand and lead her towards the stairs that lead to her attic room.

"Thank you, Klarion, the murder will help me from here." She smiled taking hold of the old wooden railing that lead up the steps towards the attic where the low caws of the crows nested in the rafters could be heard.

He really didn't care much for the music that the people played lately but there was one song that rather quirked his interest, it was from a funny sounding group called the Toadies and an even more so particular song entitled "Possum Kingdom". He really didn't like it, but whenever he looked at her a few of the lyrics drifted into his mind and it seemed to have been written just for her, just like that damnably stubborn book of hers was meant just for her.

…_I promise you  
I will treat you well  
My sweet angel _

Yes that's what he had made of her. An angel fallen from the heavens and into the hands of a demon.

But she never saw him as a demon, a devil, or any other evil form like countless others had done and dubbed him. She had perceived him simply as a boy, a boy that needed her.

Though she was blind she had very little problems finding her way about her room, after all she had been living in the humble abode of Klarion ever since he found her near dead by her own hands those two years ago.

She wanted to die that day because she felt she had no reason to live, that her life served no purpose in the world since she could not find someone to love, her empathic gift practically drove her insane, and that she could not bear any children, therefore destroying her long lived dreams of having a family of her own.

But then Klarion came and gave her the job of serving and caring for him, and to her she knew she would do all that she possibly could to appease him; even if that meant pushing herself to and beyond the limit to carry out his whims for he was now her purpose.

Sighing lightly Medea pulled away what remained of her costume she had painstakingly designed and sewn together, discarding it to be thrown away once she was able to do so, she carefully began her trek to the small bathroom to cleanse herself both of grime and the defeat she felt crawling on her soiled skin. As the hot water rained down upon her flesh and feathers her mind drifted back to the days she first began her service to the young witch boy.

Theodore's fist connected hard into her cheek knocking her back with blinding pain. 'You're still not paying attention!' He reprimanded her as she weakly regained her poise.

Klarion watched the pair spar in the courtyard frowning deeply his young face set into ever persistent boredom, his expression changing slightly when Theodore so easily manhandled his new pet with his advanced fighting skills that far surpassed her merger unsophisticated and unpolished city brawling methods.

'Sorry, but all of that fancy footwork doesn't do much for a simple street fight.' She grumbled touching her stinging jaw before bringing her hands up, fingers curled into tight fist as she stood in the offensive.

'I see, hit first, hit hard, and keep swinging hoping you hit someone, right?' Theodore asked before advancing towards her briskly aiming for her open unprotected areas.

Grunting Medea jumped backwards avoiding another punishing blow from the aggressive man, 'That's my tactics more or less.'

'Then you need some better tactics if you wish to serve me.' Klarion stated from his seat.

And for the first time Medea smiled that loving smile that he craved to see more of directed towards him she said those words for the first time that made him aware of the fact that he wanted to keep her for all of his perpetual pubescent life. 'As you wish; Master Klarion.'

Two years and a countless number of ice packs later she had learned to polish her skills, moving away from the crude so-called style she had to something more, something like a small mix of the little Taekwondo and something Theodore called Schmetterling Fighting Art (which he knew very little of and taught her even less) that would be of good use whenever she got the wings Klarion promised her and the natural grace in which she moved. And further more she had learned how to use her gift/curse of empathy to her advantage during combat.

Theodore ducked her advancing kick tripping her before slamming his fist into her chest knocking her down into the dirt. 'Two years of intense training and you're still making such stupid mistakes. You're a waste of time Medea.'

'I am amazed at the pleasure you get in putting me down. You want to feel like you are the one in charge of something, don't you?' Medea chuckled in her throat as she stood up, 'But that's the problem, you aren't, you are not in charge of anything but Klarion's to-do list.'

Spitting out her mouthful of bloody saliva she grinned wickedly, 'Klarion runs everything, not you like you pretend to do. And I know why, it's because you are scared of him. You are scared of what he can and **will** one day do to you.' Laughing in his face she slowly approached him. 'And he knows that you are afraid, he knows that every time you look into his eyes you practically piss on yourself because you know that kid is going to be the death of you.'

He shook in anger at the blatant truth in her words. He wanted to attack her, to shut her up and remove that damnable smug look from her face. He drew his hand back to punch her only to flinch when she made her move before he could.

Her knee slammed hard into his groin bringing him down half bent and sinking down onto the ground. She laughed lightly running her fingers down his cheek, 'What's the point of you teaching me all of that fancy footwork when you let your guard down so easily?' She cooed as her nail dug into his cheek.

He cursed deeply beneath his breath uncaring that with her queer powers she could feel his anger, his hate, and hidden deep beneath it all the fear that lingered in his heart for both of the magick wielding beings.

'Theodore, I think it's time you stopped wasting the young master's and my time with your stupid machismo and teach me how to handle.' Her lips lifted into a small smirk, 'Besides you do not want to upset Klarion now do you?' The hand that was once digging into his skin withdrew only to return as a hard palm slamming into his jaw, lifting him off his feet and into the dirt.

He cast his eyes towards the rather amused looking boy standing in the shade of the large porch watching their fight from the distance. Even from where he was on the ground he could still see those dark voids looking back towards him as if he had heard every single word the two exchanged. Those dark eyes watching, looking into his soul, confirming the cold cruel words the woman had said.

Klarion sat in his dark room staring blankly into the void of space before him, his foot tapping rhythmically against the floorboards, one hand stroking Teekl's back while the other propped his head up in a show of boredom. His eyes, black marbles contracting against his pale skin, looked about the boxes upon boxes of 'toy' stacked neatly against the walls of his room. There was sure to be something for him to do, something in one of those boxes would surely help to cure his boredom but for reasons the child refused to admit to they brought him none of the joy he sought.

His small chest rose and fell as he deeply sighed causing Teekl to mew loudly in protest, displeased with the depressing disturbance. Looking towards him for only a moment Teekl purred arching her back upwards into Klarion's touch before gracefully jumping down onto the ground and quickly went about her own business elsewhere in the large silent house, hopefully to find some more of the field mice that had managed to escape the murder of crows and had actually made it within the house.

Klarion wasn't sure when he had stood onto his feet, nor was he sure when exactly he had traveled the distance between his room to hers, he had only just began to notice when his feet paused on the very top stair to the attic turned loft styled room.

He paused at the door as the sound of the shower's water hitting the porcelain tub and skin filled the air. She always did as he bid.

She wasn't so simple to live with in the beginning. No, the suicidal tendencies remained; Theodore had tried to explain to him that she was in a deep depression and would stay that way for sometime. She was depressed to begin with, he explained to him, but something else had happened that had put her over the edge to the point she didn't wish to live any longer in the life that she lead.

But regardless he enjoyed her presents, he enjoyed teaching her what he knew of magick, and even more so how she treated him as if he was just a normal little boy.

'Medea, where are the cookies?' Klarion questioned forcing the door of the pantry close with a loud and frustrated bang.

'Those bagged things Theodore bought from the store?' Medea questioned with her arm covered in dishwater and suds all the way up to her elbows, 'I threw them out.' She replied in a matter of fact tone he found somewhat annoying.

'What?' Klarion demanded his dark eyes flying to the trashcan where he could indeed see a crushed bag of cookies stuffed as best they could be into the bin. He had been craving those delicious sweets all evening only to find what he desired were now useless crumbs covered with the discarded leftovers and whatever the name was for the crud that came from the kitchen sink's drain.

'Do not worry; I'm making you some fresh homemade cookies. I just put them in the oven.' She smiled kindly placing the now clean bowls and utensils into disk rack to dry. It only took a few moments before the sweet mouth watering aroma of the baking cookies wafted throughout the rustic styled kitchen, backing her words and making him forget about the store bought treats. His eyes darted to the simple black and white timer sitting in the center of the small kitchen table, the soft ticks were nearly inaudible but for the impatient young boy the noise was like the constant bangs of a hammer echoing in his ears.

It seemed like an eternity had passed before the timer finally rang and Medea calmly pulled the two trays neatly lined with cookies from the oven before sitting the many soft and warm cookies onto the cooling racks sitting ready on the countertop.

He was sure that she was deliberately taking her time shifting the moist and warm morsels from the pan onto the racks with the long spatula before finally sitting four onto a small plate and sitting them before him.

'Careful they're still hot.' She warned lightly to him, her hand brushing over his bangs as she moved past him to reach the refrigerator. He knew well that she was getting him a glass of milk, her mind responding instinctively to his wants and needs without him having to voice them aloud.

In a matter of moments she had poured him a nice tall glass of ice cold milk to counter the sweet warm cookies and reached across the kitchen's table to sit the drink before him (and a saucer for Teekl) her warm smile reflecting in his face.

But that was when his eyes lowered and he paused looking at the flash of skin that peeked from beneath the cotton sleeve of her shirt spying the nasty and rather fresh looking laceration streaking over her wrist. He knew that several more new and old were running down her forearm.

Medea's grin faded as she looked onto the now stone set face of her young master, having long since learned how to read him with and without the use of her untamed powers of empathy she could see that something was deeply troubling him. Her eyes followed his towards her wrist, more importantly the non-too deep cut on her wrist.

Withdrawing her hand she slowly drew the sleeve back up to cover her shameful actions. 'Klarion,' Her voice was soft, spoken in the tone she used when she was the minion and he the master.

'Why do you still do it?' He demanded roughly sounding nothing like the child he was.

She could not answer him no it was too difficult to explain why she chose her arms of all places to cut when she felt the need to. Looking down at the floor boards she sighed warily before moving in soft swift steps to approach the small boy.

For someone so _languid_ Klarion would forever be impressed with how stealthy and briskly the dark woman could move. One moment she looked to be cowering in his anger and the next he felt himself stiffen as she wrapped her arms about him trapping him in an embrace.

He noticed that she did that a lot, she always managed to find a way to touch him in some sort of caring fashion he never remembered his mother or father ever doing. At first he despised it, being so unused to any other form of contact unless he was stroking Teekl's fur. But now, now he sort of craved her closeness, her warmth and love that came with her intimate caresses and words.

'Klarion,' Hearing her say his name in that ever soft spoken voice made his breathing hitch. 'Love of my love, heart of my heart. I am not trying to escape you. It hurts every single time I do it but I can't stop it. I can't stop feeling the feelings of others and the despair and confusion that I feel nearly drives me insane sometimes. It's like a diseased chaos devouring me and I can do nothing more than mute it slightly. I cut myself sometimes just to tell the difference between _their_ pain and my own.' Her arms tightened about his small frame, 'But **never** because of you.'

'Are you sure?' He asked her doubting her words.

'I'll never leave you, my young master, my love of my love.'

It was like she had unwittingly signed herself over to him, whatever anger he felt vanished within her arms, whatever doubt he had was lost as her soft calls of 'my love's and 'my heart's filled his head.

From then on whatever possessive nature he held towards her doubled. She wasn't allowed relationships; or rather she wasn't allowed any intimate male relationships. Klarion had been quiet specific about her ostensible love life after a brief affair with a simple young man she had taken a mild liking to.

Her punishment was somewhat cruel; he converted her into a small bird and locked her in a cage commanding that she 'sing' him to sleep for the night. As for the man, he wasn't so fortunate. After he was done with the poor soul Teekl didn't have anything to toy with as she usually did.

The water in the shower had long since stopped and she had dried herself and brushed the water and loose feathers from her wings seemingly an hour ago when Klarion poked his head through the heavy wooden door that lead into the attic turned loft, the rough edge had splintered in time from the constant rubbing caused by opening and closing against the offset doorframe.

He spied her sitting within the fine silver netting of her canopy, looking like Briar Rose, the sleeping beauty caged within thick webs of spider's silk.

She sat with her head bowed, her unseeing eyes staring vacantly at the void present before her legs, in her lap the large black bird, (Cagney if he recalled hearing her called correctly) sat with its legs tucked beneath it, head bowed somewhat her lids closed hiding her silver beady eyes away from sight.

Her head twitched slightly, as if catching a faint sound, her delicate neck craned slowly and gracefully turning her head towards the door. "You're no good at playing grownup." She spoke in that soft revered tone that seemed to caress and lull him into a since of security even while she chided him. "You can't go on feeling remorseful for punishing someone…if you want to be so adult."

"Are you okay?" He asked in a small childish voice not at all the tone he used when he played the part of master and she his minion, or as Theodore whispered when he thought he was out of earshot his 'master and pet'.

Wondering closer to the bed he watched as Medea's fingers stilled and the bird released a small disappointed trill before quickly moving through a part in the net and taking flight to return to her nest someplace above with the rest of the murder hidden in the bare rafters.

"You know as well as I do that as long as Morrum exists so will I." She said tilting her head slightly to the left, smiling.

Smiling, she was smiling. Always tender, always kind, and always…smiling for him.

"Do not worry." She whispered patting the space beside her.

Taking up her offer he moved under the soft and silky canopy to sit in the place she had motioned for. Before he could settle she wrapped her arms about him.

"Klarion, I promised you that I'm going to stay with you forever." Her voice whispered into his ear as she pulled him closer into her embrace.

He hated it when some people say 'forever' they didn't mean it, they never meant forever. Grown people only said it to sooth children, 'forever' existed in a fantasy world meant for the ignorant, for little tikes who hadn't been fully exposed to the truths of the world. 'Forever' was meant of those who didn't know that 'forever' was nothing but a nonexistent factor of time…that 'forever' ended at some point, and it was never really that long to begin with.

"Because you have to." He said trying not to feel bitter at the spoken words.

He felt her chest jolt softly as she chuckled in that light way of hers, "No, love of my love and heart of my heart," Her whispered words made the hair on his skin rise on end as the title she gave him made his heart beat faster. He couldn't keep himself from tightening his hold about the soft silk like material of her nightgown as he buried his face deep into her chest. "I'm going to stay because you need me to stay with you. Just like me you get tired of being lonely. I'm here because I want to be."

Laying next to her tried body he relaxed into the warm knowing feeling of her wings cocooned about them as she unconsciously hugged him dearly to her chest. No matter what he did to her she would always care for him, love him.

The Justice League would pay, not only for hindering his fun but for hurting his playmate and loyal caretaker.

The mattress gave slightly when Teekl pounced onto the bed making a place for herself among the pillows. As his own consciousness began to slip his hands found their way into one of their favorite spots wrapped about her waist settling into the curve of her side, he realized just how much he valued such pleasing moments with her, near her, and touching her. No one else would ever take that away from him, he would see to it that those who would dared try would suffer.

…_I promise you  
I will treat you well  
My sweet angel…_

TBC...


End file.
